Resonating Souls: The Butterfly Effect
by Alphawolf69
Summary: Femslash. New Xmen based, however, MDay did NOT happen. Xavier has left the XMansion after the deaths of Jean and Magneto. Emma and Scott are left in charge. Being in a relationship with Scott is all Emma wanted, but there's trouble in paradise...EmmaOC
1. Chapter 1: Somebody

**Disclaimer: **

Obviously, if you recognise it, then it's a safe bet that I don't own it. (Like I would be here if I did?) My OC belongs to me (I have the adoption papers to prove it)

As this is my virgin fic (blush), it's my first time,so I should probably issue an amateur warning…

**Author notes (READ BEFORE COM-FLAMING): **

Yes, it is femslash, to the uninitiated this means two females in love/loving relationship (cue shocked gasps and angry BNP members or people with burning crosses)

Please, if this offends you, piss/sod off, I don't care if it does (you reserve the right to leave at any time) and it basically just wastes both of our times if you flame.

That said, it probably (don't quote me!) won't be that explicit…Surprisingly I blush easily…

There will be swearing. Hopefully it won't become unecessarily so, but it's unrealistic to have Logan say "Gosh, darn it!"

The X-men universe I'm using isn't canon. Don't email me telling me: 'There's no way so and so would be the same age as blah-blah'. It's made up, but based partially on New X-men, the characters will be anyone I have a soft spot for cough X-23 and Beast cough the ages will be shamelessly messed around.

To understand Emma's past, it may help to have read Karl Belllers Emma Frost graphic novel.

House of M and M-Day have not happened (the comic writers must've had a hole in their heads…) Charles Xavier has left the X-Mansion after the death of Magneto (by Logan) and Jean (by Magneto) and left the children's education to Emma and Scott. The Brotherhood is still active under the leadership of Wanda and Pietro but are weakened. FOH and government are still sniffing around for mutants and the school hasn't had it's cover blown. Jean hasn't risen, so Scott and Emma are in a relationship (we'll see about that…).

As for the rest? Well, you'll see…

Please review.

**Chapter 1: Somebody**

Emma was awake. The digital glare from the alarm clock flashing lazily on the nightstand on her left, showed that it was 03:10 AM. She sighed quietly as she ran a hand through her sleek white-blond hair and glanced at her lover lying stiffly beside her.

Even in repose, Scott somehow managed to look uncomfortable; a frown wrinkled his brow and he muttered discontentedly, twitching and fidgeting. Also, the fact that he was actually lying with his _back_ to her and refused to be held or even hold her…It was as if he couldn't bear her touch…

Emma would never admit it, but this _hurt._ It was worse than when she had revealed to Ian, the love of her young life, that she was a mutant and he had subsequently rejected her. Then it had been a sudden severing of emotion, messy, painful as hell, but at least it was a _clean_ cut. He had amputated himself from her life instantaneously.

This, this felt like Scott was gripping her heart tightly in his hand and slowly squeezing the life from it in the most agonizing way he could and refusing to let her go. She wasn't certain that she _wanted_ to leave. What was worse was the way he insisted everything was fine and actually became irritated if she pressed the matter. It was as if he could not see the way was behaving was in any way wrong. He did not talk with her about anything beyond school matters, they did not go out at _all_ and they certainly did not show any displays of affection outside the walls of their own bedroom. He acted as if he was ashamed of her. She had tried to read his thoughts many times to try and find out what was bothering him after he refused to talk about it for so long, but she had been blocked. She hadn't realised Jean had taught him the rudiments of mental shielding.

Of course it was nowhere _near_ an effective barrier to her powerful telepathy, but she didn't want it to be that way with Scott. She wanted him to trust her. Wanted him to love her. She would not violate his privacy…Yet.

Emma stared at Scott's unyielding back. It certainly was representative of their relationship now.

Ever since Jean had died…

'No…Be honest, at least with yourself, darling. He's _always_ been this way with you. He only touches you when _he_ needs something. _Your_ needs come second, or not at all.' Desperately she tried to refute it, only to realise that it was futile to do so.

"_Superpowers, a scintillating wit, and the best body money can buy… and I still rate below a corpse." _She remembered saying that to Henry while Scott and Logan were tussling on the Mansion's front lawn like a pair of juvenile adolescents. In many ways, she reflected, they still were. She had hid behind a mask of indifference most of her life and it smarted that once she'd began to lower it with Scott he completely shut her out.

Even their lovemaking had become passionless; Scott either acted as if it were a tiresome chore to get over with as soon as possible or was uncharacteristically frantic, as if he were trying to drive away some internal demon. Sometimes she thought that it wasn't actually _her_ Scott was making lo- having sex with. Her qualification as sex therapist wasn't just a fancy piece of paper to decorate her office, she still practiced and lately it was getting harder and harder to ignore what her training was telling her.

She gracefully slid out of bed, careful not to wake Scott and, slipping on a white silk robe which accentuated her voluptuous figure, silently strode over to the liquor cabinet. Taking out a crystal glass, she filled it to the brim with vintage 1965 whiskey.

Scott would not allow her to "Play therapist" while they were having sex, but it didn't stop her from analysing every detail of what occurred. She knocked back the whiskey in one hit, poured another and repeated the action. The expensive alcohol burned a trail down her throat and warmed her cool body. Pity it couldn't do anything for the ice around her soul. Emma chided herself for being so melodramatic and stared into the bottom of her empty glass.

'Bloody Scott Summers has just made me waste about two hundred dollars…' She thought bitterly, then sneered at herself for the weak attempt at diversion.

Tonight, as she and Scott had been enjoying one of the more passionate love-making sessions she had caught, faintly, but still audible, the mental whisper of _Jean…_ as he climaxed. Emma's heart had contracted painfully as the pleasure she was experiencing was washed away by the crystal clear understanding that Scott still loved Jean. Not Emma.

'Was it _ever_ me? Was I just a distraction? Has he always pictured someone else?' She gave herself a mental shake. She was tired of feeling insecure, lost and pathetic.

Replacing the glass and bottle in the cabinet again, she made her way back towards their-no, _Scott's_, bed.

She realised that reading Scott's mind was unnecessary. She'd only been deceiving herself.

She had been a fool.

Divesting herself of the robe, she laid herself elegantly out on the bed, looking like a nude marble sculpture.

This man, this _Boy Scout_,had reduced Emma Frost, the ex-White Queen of the Hellfire Club, to a pitiable, lovesick woman. He had made her weak. He had rendered her vulnerable. And he didn't give a damn.

Never before had she ever required comfort, support and love from someone so badly.

'Liar,' Her mind flatly told her, 'When you were a child, before your family warped you, you loved Christian. Before Troy was killed, you cared for him…Before Astrid betrayed you, you trusted her…And Ian…even after he completely rejected you,you loved him …The problem is after, you pushed everyone else away. No one could get close enough to hurt…or love you…'

'Scott and Jean made me recognise the loneliness I'd been carrying around for so long…' Emma mused to herself. 'But Scott has just made me feel it even more…'

She remembered as an adolescent, dreaming of growing up and meeting a wonderful man, a strong, brave and caring man. He would love her unconditionally, support her in teaching and allow her into his heart completely and utterly. There would be no secrets or distrust like there had been between her parents…They would be…happy…

Well, that time was done. She had grown up and there was no such _person_, let alone a man. She was finished now. She had had enough. No more would she lower herself to crave or need anyone's love again, it only ever caused her pain and hurt. Emma would debase herself no longer. She would be no bed warmer for anyone, not even Scott Summers. She didn't want to, but…

It was time to become Emma Grace Frost, the White Queen, again.

Blinking furiously, Emma rolled over and moved to the left-hand edge of the bed, furthest away from Scott and curled up, wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling them to her chest.

She would not cry…

Behind her she heard Scott stir.

"Jean…love you…so much…" he mumbled. Emma flinched and finally could take it no more. She extended her powers and used them to stimulate part of Scott's brain and send him into deep REM sleep for the rest of the night.

As her body began to be lulled by the combination of strong alcohol and mental and physical exhaustion, a solitary tear slid silently down her face.

She didn't need anyone.

She would not be weak.

* * *

_I want somebody to share  
Share the rest of my life  
Share my innermost thoughts  
Know my intimate details  
Someone who'll stand by my side  
And give me support  
And in return  
She'll get my support  
She will listen to me  
When I want to speak  
About the world we live in  
And life in general  
Though my views may be wrong  
They may even be perverted  
She will hear me out  
And won't easily be converted  
To my way of thinking  
In fact she'll often disagree  
But at the end of it all  
She will understand me  
_

_I want somebody who cares  
For me passionately  
With every thought and with every breath  
Someone who'll help me see things  
In a different light  
All the things I detest  
I will almost like  
I don't want to be tied  
To anyone's strings  
I'm carefully trying to steer clear  
Of those things  
But when I'm asleep  
I want somebody  
Who will put their arms around me  
And kiss me tenderly  
Though things like this  
Make me sick  
In a case like this  
I'll get away with it _

**- Depeche Mode; Somebody**

* * *

**In our dreams is when we all are at our most vulnerable. The border between the conscious and unconscious mind oftentimes begins to blur and the innermost desires of our hearts are brought into light…**

**In her sleep, Emma's mental defences, already weakened by the emotional turmoil she was experiencing, were lowered…**

**The X-Mansion was still. Not a sound disturbed the stillness surrounding it. To the casual observer, nothing would appear to be out of the ordinary. Even most mutants would not be able to tell the difference. Only telepath would feel the disturbance ripping through the otherwise calm night. **

**Keening sounds of mental anguish were silently screamed into the night. They radiated outwards from the epicentre of the blonde's mind. They were searching for a kindred soul, something or someone to share and understand her pain. **

**Emma was completely unaware of what she was doing, unconsciously seeking out comfort. Her mind reacted on a purely instinctual level; like an abandoned new born child, she cried out for someone to hear and come and end her loneliness. **

**Her pain spiked and flared on the mental plane, like a distress flare, making it easy for telepaths to reach out and identify her. This was incredibly dangerous, however luck seemed to be with Emma that night.**

**The next day, telepath's across the globe would complain of the most intense migraines they'd encountered since they came into their power. Many would have passed out or experienced nose bleeds. Most would not be able to recall details of the previous night, only a vague feeling of grief for something they'd lost, or perhaps never had. The intensity of Emma's frustration and suffering seemed to have blinded them to the cause of their pain.**

**It did not stop there. **

**Within the universe, there are certain rules that are supposed to be infallible, unbreakable and therefore form the very fabric of our existence. The veil between worlds is never meant to be breached. Different realities are never meant to mix or collide. **

**Only in the rarest of circumstances, on the bluest of blue moon's can this even begin to be theoretically feasible. **

**However, tonight, this line was going to be crossed. Emma's pain would set in motion a chain of events beyond anyone's control. She was, unknowingly, to reproduce the butterfly effect on an inter-dimensional scale…**

**The resonance of a distant mind with Emma's would be the catalyst to tear the veil of reality and set new boundaries for what was, and was not, possible. **


	2. Chapter 2: She

**Disclaimer:**

See chapter 1.

**Chapter 2: She **

**It is amazing how much can change within the short space of a couple of hours. **

**Petty decisions you were sure could never have any significance, turn out to be the difference between life and death. And those 'dead cert' wagers made in jest with a devil, result in the loss of your soul.**

* * *

_She crawled across the shattered glass strewn floor, feeling the shards cutting deep into her flesh. Her breath hitched in pain at every movement and she suspected several of her ribs were fractured, if not broken. To make matters worse, she had her damn duffle bag on her back, putting even more pressure on her damaged ribs._

_But it wasn't as if she had a choice if she wanted to avoid carbon-monoxide poisoning._

'_See Gareth, the library _**was**_ good for something…' She choked, the laugh morphing into a sob in her throat. A trickle of something oozed out her mouth and splattered her hands as she did so, and glancing down, she saw it was blood. _

_Gingerly probing her ribcage, she hissed in pain as several gave way beneath her examination. _

'_Alright then, those are **definitely **__broken…' She resolutely ignored the voice in her head telling her that her lungs were punctured and that she was a dead girl walking, she just too stupid to lie down and stop moving. 'Get yeh arse in gear, girl, Wolverines' been in tighter spots than this!' She tried to cajole herself into moving faster, but her body steadfastly refused to believe she possessed an increased healing factor._

_It was times like this, that she was grateful for her short, boyish hair, which left the back of her neck bare. The extra weight in this heat would've been completely unbearable. It was also one the only times that she was grateful for having an extremely flat chest; her harsh lifestyle allowed only a few such 'advantages'…_

_The flames around her blazed violently, as though they were incensed at the thought of someone surviving their inferno. _

_She'd never realised before that fire had it's own unique scent, like anything else. _

_A hot smoky, metallic tang. Was it possible for something to smell like heat? If it was, that's what she would swear fire smelled like._

_Of course, she could be hallucinating from the fumes of burning plastic._

'_Not much further now.' She told herself. Two distinct shapes appeared out of the black and red haze on the floor ahead of her. Revitalised, she dragged herself forward, her legs trailing limply behind her._

"_Gareth?" She coughed again, blood spattering the floor and dripping down her chin, stinging her split lip. "Darren?" Neither of them moved. "Listen you poncy wankers, this isn't funny. We've got to get out of here! This place is going collapse any minute!" Still no movement. An icy thread of fear cut into her, penetrating deeper than even the glass shards. A charred scent assaulted her nostrils… "Gar? Daz? Come on you pilloks, up an'at 'em!" She called shakily._

_No response._

_Desperately, she shook them. Bonelessly, Gareth flopped over. She bit back another sob. He was almost unrecognisable under the mask of bruises his face had become. The only clues she had to it- to _**his**_ identity, were the singed clothes and the tell-tale electric blue dyed hair. His usually bright green eyes were dark and glazed over in death. His face was frozen eternally in a rictus of pain. Her heart froze._

_Hand trembling, she reached up and closed his eyes. Then, suppressing an agonised whimper, lent forward and pressed a light kiss to his cheek._

_Eyes watering, she turned her attention to the other slumped form. _

"_Daz, c'mon man, we've got to move." She spoke softly, shaking his shoulder. Wetness seeped into her hand. As she pulled her hand back, the fabric clung to it slightly, setting her whole body trembling like a leaf. _

_It was coated in blood._

_A throbbing started in her temple. _

_This-this _**couldn't**_ be happening…_

_She'd been laughing and joking with them, not a day before…_

_This, it was _**her** _fault. If she'd just listened to them…_

_But how could she have known?_

_She should've known.._

**She** _had been the one betrayed. _

_But she should've never listened, never _**believed** _that someone could like her, could have actually _**loved**_ her…_

_It had killed her family._

_She had killed her family._

_Like bile, anguish rose up to the back of her throat, choking her. _

_She had nothing else to live for. It was all gone. Everything… _

_The throbbing increased in tempo to a tribal, drum-like beat. It pulsed to the rhythm of her anger and pain._

_Her mind could not quite get around that concept. _

_She felt like laughing. _

_She felt like crying._

"_No…" She punched the floor, ignoring the ominous creaking of the building and the lancing pain that ran through her arm, as she did so. "No." She hit the floor harder and felt splinters spike into fist for her trouble. _

_Rage flooded through her, blending with the pain in her head, her heart and her body, blocking out conscious thought. Dimly she knew she shouldn't be doing it._

_Something bad would happen if she continued to let her emotions get out of control. Her mind flitted briefly to the bottle of pills hidden in a secret pocket of her bag. She really, _**really**_, shouldn't get angry…_

_She didn't want to have another 'episode'…She'd been getting better, the pills blocked everything out…But her sickness made her vulnerable to violently emotive situations…_

_She didn't want to hear _**them**…

_But it was hard to think, even harder to feel._

_The rage was melting her iron self-control and the effects of her medicine. She just couldn't hold it back any longer._

_She didn't really care anymore._

_As she surrendered, something in her mind ripped. It felt like the violent tearing off of a long hated and confining bandage. It was both painful and liberating. _

_She let loose a heart-rending scream as the babbling of seemingly endless voices assaulted her ears. _

_(-re does she get off talking to-)_

_(So what's left-)_

_(Twenty pounds! Daylight robbery!)_

_The voices were unrelenting, seemingly unaware of her existence. Snatches of sentences reached her, filling her mind and making rational thought difficult._

_(-lying to my face)_

_(Oh father who art in-)_

_(God what's her problem?)_

_(It can't be-)_

_(Ugh, men are such pigs…)_

_(Do I have something on my face?)_

_(Fuck me, _**I'd**_ do 'er)_

_(Food)_

_(What is the point?)_

_(Heh, wish I'd been there)_

_White fog was clouding her vision; her eyes burning and itching, making her reach up and claw at them blindly in an effort to alleviate the burning. Tears leaked out from under her closed lids_

_She had one moment of clarity:_

_Her friends, her _**brothers**_, dead, just lifeless corpses littering the floor. _

_The voices washed back over her, screaming, shouting, whimpering, cursing, all invading and overwhelming her. _

_She curled up into a foetal position and felt the grinding crunch of bone produce a blinding hot pain in her lungs._

"_St-o-p…"She rasped, her breathing shallow and harsh. She wasn't sure if she could take anymore. She could feel the overcrowding, claustrophobic chattering of seemingly billions of people pressing in on her. Each struggled to be heard and then, suddenly through her mind's eye, she began to see flashes, vague impressions of scenes…_

_(And though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death-) Intense fear surged through her heart, as she stared down the barrel of a gun…_

_(Six pints of lager and a packet of crisps. Six pints-) Swirling ground beneath her feet, gnawing hunger bubbling in her stomach… _

_(Je me demande ce qui est pour le dîner…?) Smells, textures drifted over her palate while she started to salivate…_

_(Mommy?) Child-like bewilderment at a sobbing woman before her…_

_(Min vänner förstår inte mig alls…) Sense of sadness, a teardrop falling…_

_خائن__خائن العهد__عميل مأجور__الخائن__) A mob of angry people surrounding her, murder in their eyes…_

(Я_ буду иметь мою месть) She watched the crumpled form lying bleeding beneath her feet and felt hate fill her heart…_

_What was going on? It had never been like this before! She was hallucinating hearing different _**languages**_! She was seeing things…Things that made absolutely no sense!_

_She shouldn't have surrendered, it was too late for the pills now…_

_How could she understand them! And they were getting louder…The scenes clearer…The pressure was building…Shit, her head was going to explode…She couldn't thin-_

"_STOP!" She screamed. _

_She'd changed her mind, this wasn't what she wanted! The primal sound was an oddly fitting accompaniment to the overpowering and elemental background of the inferno. Nothing mattered except drowning the voices out. Vaguely, as though it was happening to someone else, she felt her nose begin to bleed. It trickled slowly down her chin, leaving a wet sticky trail and the stench of copper .Her breaths came in shallow sob as the burning in her eyes increased in intensity. Scratching wasn't helping._

_In desperation she stretched out, searching for something to concentrate on to take the pain away. Anything, _**anyone**_ would do…_

_A buzzing sound began. She did not notice, her raw sounds of both physical and mental anguish deafening her to anything else. _

_Then, softly, so faint, she heard it. A frail voice, crying out for comfort. Paradoxically, she felt a sensation of warmth and comfort from it. This puzzled her strained mind; the others only gave her an intense feeling of violation. Listening to it and letting it's song wash over her was like being bathed in sunlight inside her head. It was…nice._

_She didn't want to close this one out._

"_You know you're crazy, when…you're comforted by the voices in your head." She wheezed wetly, trying to stop hysterical laughter from bubbling out. Her throat felt raw and bloody, much like the rest of her body._

_A wave of frustration swept through her, she just wasn't concentrating!_

'_You found your focus, so focus!' She berated herself silently._

_A quote she'd read from one of her many library sessions swam to the forefront of her mind: "We are born crying, live complaining, and die disappointed."_

'_Fuckin' got that right…'She thought bitterly._

_Allowing her to body relax completely was one of the most difficult things she'd had to do. Reaching out, she grabbed Gareth and Darren's hands. It was hard though, because the smoke had become very thick and her head felt as though it'd been disconnected from her body._

_They'd go together._

_She focused solely on the one sweet, silvery heart-breaking voice and let its wordless speech flow over her. It was like listening to Italian opera; heart-rendingly beautiful, but no clue whatsoever what the hell was being said._

_Thankfully, the other voices faded to a barely audible background murmur, leaving her slightly more able to think._

_There was no escape. She was bleeding internally and had been for a while, not to mention the external cuts, bruises and nosebleed. Her legs weren't broken, but certainly weren't in the greatest of shape and she was probably suffering from carbon dioxide and monoxide poisoning. Her eyes felt as if they were on fire and the eyelids were heavy and swollen. _

_She wasn't getting out of here alive. _

_A sense of calm filled her and she allowed the voice to wash over her. She was doubtful that she'd ever wake up again._

_Slowly, as she waited for unconsciousness, she began to notice the singing had words appearing amongst soft sounds:_

_(I want somebody to share  
Share the rest of my life  
Share my innermost thoughts  
Know my intimate details  
Someone who'll stand by my side  
And give me support  
And in return  
She'll get my support  
She will listen to me  
-  
Though my views may be wrong  
They may even be perverted  
She will hear me out  
And won't easily be converted  
To my way of thinking  
In fact she'll often disagree  
But at the end of it all  
She will understand me  
_

_  
I want somebody who cares  
For me passionately  
With every thought and with every breath  
-  
But when I'm asleep  
I want somebody  
Who will put their arms around me  
And kiss me tenderly  
Though things like this  
Make me sick  
In a case like this  
I'll get away with it)_

_Parts were missing, as though they had been lost in transmission, but even so, she felt an intense wonder spread through her. She completely forgot that the voice was a symptom of her sickness. It expressed exactly how she felt…Damn, no-one should feel like this…She felt pity and empathy sweep across her. _

'_Don't cry…' She wished that she could help the angelic voice, but she was too weak…_

_The flames were closer, much closer now and she could feel her clothes begin to smoke. But she forgot all about herself and strained to somehow offer comfort._

'_Please don't cry…It'll be alright…' She felt her body tense as a tingling feeling spread through her body._

'_Not long now…'_

_A disconcerting feeling swept through her. Her body felt as if it was being disintegrated down into individual sub-atomic particles and then slowly and painstakingly reformed. _

_Her sense of the surroundings disappeared. She could no longer hear the fire, feel the heat or her friends hands or smell the choking scent of death and smoke._

_Exhausted in every sense, her mind gave up the struggle to comprehend what was occurring and let her sink into oblivion. _

_

* * *

_

_She...  
She screams in silence  
A sullen riot penetrating through her mind  
Wait, waiting for a sign  
To smash the silence with the brick of self-control  
_

_  
Are you locked up in a world  
That's been planned out for you  
Are you feeling like a social tool without a use  
_

_  
Scream at me until my ears bleed  
I'm taking heed just for you  
_

_  
She...  
She's figured out  
All her doubts were someone else's point of view  
Wake, waking up this time  
To smash the silence with the brick of self-control  
_

_  
Are you locked up in a world  
That's been planned out for you  
Are you feeling like a social tool without a use  
_

_  
Scream at me until my ears bleed  
I'm taking heed just for you_

_**-Green Day, She** _

* * *

The light from the tear flared brightly and a roaring sound filled the room as a dark silhouette appeared, illuminated in its glare.

**Author Notes: **

Apologies for the angst. No, I'm not a sadist… grin Maybe just a little…

Let me know if you think the rating should change. I have been warped by TV so my perception may be slightly shot.

If you're uncertain of any of the slang or English words, review with your query and I'll get back to you. Or check out urbandictionary dot com.

I bet some of you are confused about translations. Here they are, in order (any mistakes really not my fault!):

"I wonder what's for dinner…?" – French

"My friends don't understand me at all..." – Swedish

"Traitor!" – Arabic

"I will have my revenge…" - Russian

Please review, feedback is good for the soul. The signed/verified only review has been disabled, so no one has an excuse…

Hey, where are you all going!


	3. Chapter 3: Monster

**Disclaimer:**

See chapter 1.

**Author Notes:**

I'll be upgrading the rating**later** because the swearing will be getting worse and I didn't want anyone to expose young children (what are you doing here?) or those of a 'nervous disposition' to it. But for the moment the rating stays. Don't worry I'll warn you when I'm going to change it. There will be **no** porn.

**Chapter 3: Monster**

Emma awoke with a start the next morning, along with a strange fleeting sensation that she had been crying.

She knew without turning over that Scott was gone. Stretching over, she tentatively felt his side of the bed.

It was cold.

Well.

'Oh, come now, it can't be _that_ much of a surprise, can it dear?' She thought bitterly.

She had classes that morning and wasn't going to lower herself to trailing around looking for Scott like a lost puppy. That may've been Jean's penchant, but it most certainly was _not_ hers.

Standing in front of her mirror and walk-in wardrobe, Emma appraised her naked figure critically.

'Not bad for a thirty-year-old…' her eyes were ice blue and, at the moment, radiated the same warmth. Pale, platinum blond hair swept past her shoulders and fell between her shoulder blades. Her body was the palest ivory because she could never seem to tan, no matter how hard she tried… Using a tanning salon was not an option; she still had her pride. Her muscles, thanks to her training, retained their toned hardness and lent a sleek, dangerous look to her body. From listening to the _loud_ broadcasts from students and teachers alike, she knew she still looked good.

Pity Scott never mentioned it.

She shook her head sharply; she didn't _want _to think about Scott at the moment.

She had to go to breakfast.

Glancing at the clock, Emma cursed softly. She was running late. Again.

'Ah, well. When in doubt, wear leather. Tight, _revealing_, leather…' She smirked only half-heartedly at her reflection. Becoming the White Queen no longer held the same amusement or appeal that it once did.

* * *

After having sat through another awkward breakfast where everyone spent the entirety trying not to look too hard at her (which was amusing) or the space beside her where Scott, the Headmaster should've been sitting (which wasn't), Emma was in an even worse mood. The somewhat pleasant conversation she'd had with Henry about whether or not the Med Lab should be expanded, improved her temper somewhat, but she was still feeling irritated and out-of-sorts.

She supposed it might also have something to do with the headache that was presently pounding away behind her temples. Emma had, shortly after she'd got dressed, tried to use her powers to stimulate the pleasure part of her cerebral cortex to negate the pain. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be working. Also, she wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but some of the students, notably all telepaths, appeared to be giving her strange looks. Any mental attempts to skim their surface thoughts and discover what was going on, was deflected by their tight mental defences, obviously she had taught them well.

Stalking angrily along the corridor, white leather duster flaring out behind her like a cloak (which of course was the intended effect), Emma made her way to her first class: maths. Her usual style of white on white was strangely fitting, not looking at all ridiculous, as it no doubt would on anyone else. Her tight white blouse emphasised her generous cleavage and the white leather pants did the same for her ass. Knee-high white leather boots completed her ensemble.

Her classroom was wide, spacious and empty. Checking her desk clock she saw there were still five minutes before the lesson's start. Emma folded herself gracefully onto her high-backed brown leather swivel chair and leant back, interlocking her fingers while she stared intently at the empty chairs in front of her.

She swallowed another two aspirin dry and shuddered.

Her damn headache just would _not_ go away! Trying to ignore it and any residual thoughts she still had about Scott, she put on her narrow, silveroval-shaped reading glasses and began to immerse herself in class notesin preparetion.

Five minutes later, she felt the approach of many loud, busy minds. Taking off her glasses, she moved round her desk to sit on the edge. Moments after, her class walked through the door, talking excitedly. She rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the pain still plaguing her.

"Good morning, class." She drawled, cocking an eyebrow at Robert "Bobby" Drake AKA "Iceman" who was, once again, the last one in. He blushed under her speculative gaze and slunk to the rear on the room.

"Good morning, Ms. Frost."

(Damn, white leather again! Ms. Frost looks so hot!) Emma _just _managed to resist rolling her eyes at Robert's raging, hormone based crush and turned her attention to the rest of the class.

As always, Paige Guthrie, an attractive blonde girl was seated in the first row, books and equipment out and a serious, studious expression on her face. Paige came from an absurdly large Kentucky family and most of her siblings were mutants. Paige herself was a transitional bodimorph. This meant she was able to shed the outer layers of her flesh at will, revealing a new skin underneath, formed of different materials such as rubber, glass, diamond, and various forms of metal. She could also achieve metabolic changes in her template form, such as removing caked up dirt and grime or shedding wounded layers of tissue. She went by the code-name "Husk".

Beside Paige sat a handsome, brown haired, brown eyed boy, who was trying (unsuccessfully) to carry on a whispered conversation with her. James Arthur "Jamie" Madrox AKA "Multiple Man" was a consummate flirt. He had, before she put a stop to it, used his mutation to duplicate himself to date several different girls at once (he maintained a telepathic link with them). He then reabsorbed his duplicates back into himself, which included their memories, skills and experiences and used them to determine which of the girls would be easiest to get into bed. She had also caught his thoughts wandering in a less-than-appropriate direction on more than one occasion in her class and had subsequently thoroughly embarrassed him in front his peers by projecting his thoughts into their minds.

It was an effective way of keeping order.

Sweeping over the next couple of rows, Emma's eyes came to rest on some of her favourite pupils; three to be exact. The surviving Stepford Cuckoo's; Phoebe, Mindee and Celeste were her prized students. They were individually extremely powerful telepaths, however, aside from telepathy, the Cuckoos also could form a psychic gestalt between them, linking them together and forming a supermind stronger than the sum of its parts. Their potential was immense, even with two of their quintet dead and Emma was extremely thankful that they had absovled her of any guilt involved with their deaths. They appeared, on first glance, to be younger clones of her, due to their platinum blonde hair and startlingly blue eyes. It was for this, among other reasons (like their disconcerting habit of speaking in unison), why many of the students were unnerved by them.

A loud popping sound made her call out without looking in its direction.

"Jubilation, I have told to always remove your gum before entering my classroom. Put it in the bin." A loud groan was heard from across the class.

"Awww, _Frosty_!" Emma turned her head with deliberate slowness and felt some of the class flinch. She fixed the irritating child with one of the coldest glares in her arsenal, one that had even made Dark Beast think twice. There was an audible intake of breath and everyone froze.

Everyone _except _Jubilation Lee AKA "Jubilee", the small dark-haired Chinese American girl, who lounged casually in her seat as if she in her room. Emma felt her irritation spike.

"For the _last_ time, Jubilation, you will address me as Ms. Frost." She spoke cooly, trying reign in her temper. Damn this headache! "And you will put your gum in the bin, _now_." The girl stood sullenly up and stomped over to the bin, violently flicking the bright pink gum into it. As she moodily made her way back to her seat, pouting like a small child, Emma decided to relieve some of her own frustrated tension. "I apologise Jubilee," the girl glanced up, disbelief written across her face and just about everyone else's in the room. Emma _never_ called Jubilee anything _but_ Jubilation."I can see how much you enjoy chewing gum." Jubilee began to smugly smirk as she laid her trap.

"Well, Frosty, I got to say I'm glad ta see ya finally seein' things my way…" Hiding a smirk of her own, Emma continued.

"Yes…I think I have been…a trifle harsh in denying you it, Jubilee." Jubilee's smirk at this point was threatening to split her face, while the rest of the class looked confused. "In fact, Jubilation, you can stay behind after class and scrape the bottom of _every _single desk for chewing gum. It should be _more_ than enough to keep you occupied for a _very_ long time." Jubilee's face fell, while the class's cracked into grins about how well she'd been caught.

"Now prehaps, we can begin. Today we will be looking at using Pythagoras' Theorem in advanced trigonometry. Open your books to page four hundred and twenty."

Emma stood, feeling marginally better after adminstering a punishment to the aggravating Jubilee. She noticed Jubilee's roomate, Monet Yvette Clarisse Maria Therese St. Croix AKA "M" was surpressing a satisfied smirk at Jubilee's displeasure. Monet, autistic and brilliant, was Jubilee's rival and the two bickered constantly. Emma suspected that Jubilee was battling feelings of inadequacy and inferioirty about the Yugoslav mutant's plethora of superpowers; the ability to fly, possession of superstrength and superhuman reflexes and telepathy. It didn't help matters that Monet excelled in every one of her subjects and often rubbed that fact in Jubilee's face. Although admittedly Jubilee did delight in teasing Monet frequently for "being so damn perfect."

As the class flipped through their books to the correct page, Emma carefully monitored their surface thoughts to ensure no-one was day dreaming. It really annoyed her when students didn't pay attention in her lessons. Or at least the right, _educational _kind of attention…

(God, she's _such_ a bitch!)

Emma gave no outward sign of having heard anything, only sighed internally and casually glanced up to see Rachel Summers AKA "Marvel Girl" staring daggers at her.

'What a surprise…' She thought sarcastically. Flashing green eyes bore into her and the anger and resentment emanting from them was almost tangible. She looked so much like Jean…'Can't really blame her, the little brat, I am sleeping with her father…' On another day, the thought would've definitely brought a provocative smirk to her lips, but today it held little comfort.

(Ms. Summers, refrain from projecting such disruptive thoughts in my lesson. And open your book.) Emma projected her thoughts privately to Rachel and received a certain amount of satisfaction from the embarrassed and angry look that crossed her face. Emma preferred not to have to openly disipline Rachel, solely due to Scott's undoubtingly negetive reaction to it, but if Rachel tried to undermine her authority in any way…She would find out personally, just why so many people called Emma the 'Ice Bitch'.

(Sorry Ms. Frost.) Rachel mentally gritted out. Emma smiled. Maybe she wasn't so stupid afterall.

* * *

It was coming up to the end of the period. Emma was pacing in front of her desk as she spoke, trying to relieve the mounting tension around her eyes as she explained the increasingly complex ideas to her pupils. It was hard enough already because it wasn't her usual subject. They were sitting, listening attentively and taking notes as well as copying the explanatory diagram off the black board behind her. Emma preferred not to use interactive white boards with computer link-ups because they always seemed to malfunction at inopportune times. Admittedly she should be able to fix them without much hassle, but there was always the off-chance that it would be something beyond her ability and she would have to call Kathryn to assist her. And she would be most infuriating in going about it...

Just as she was outlining one of the finer points of her mini-lecture, a sharp bolt of pain shot through her head, driving her to her knees. Her vision darkened and a roaring sound filled her ears.

"Miss Frost? Ah ya'll righ'?" Paige's voice sounded as though it was being spoken from a great distance away.

Emma pressed her fingers to her temple and gritted out. "I…don't…know…Get…Dr. McCoy…" Paige immediately leapt out of her seat and rushed off. Emma was almost uncaring at the point. The pressure inside her head was growing; it felt like her jagged, rusty nails were being driven into her skull. She hadn't had a headache like this since she started to develop her powers…

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Eyes unfocused, she stared at the person looming over her.

"All right, Frosty?" Jubilee actually sounded concerned. Emma vaguely supposed she should feel touched or maybe annoyed, but the pain was blocking all rational thought out.

"Hurts…" She managed.

Suddenly, there was the sound of shouting from the back of the class.

"Something-"

"-Is-"

"-Coming!" The Stepford Cuckoo's called out, huddling together. Other telepathic and semi-telepathic students within the class were groaning and grabbing their heads, including Monet and Rachel. The others stood around helplessly.

A loud buzzing was just audible over her mental pain. It too began to vibrate inside her head, overriding her remaining senses, until she thought she was being driven insane.

The classroom lights dimmed and several kids screamed.

The windows were flung open, revealing a dark and dangerous purple sky with black clouds and a harsh wind ripped through the room. If Emma had been capable of coherent thought, she would have scoffed at the clichés out of a cheesy B-horror movie. Or perhaps wondered if Forge had somehow managed to piss Ororo off again…

Slowly, a vertical slash began to materialise on the ceiling above Emma's desk. It was filled with white light, piercing, like that of the sun, leaving dancing colourful spots in people's eyes when they tried to look straight at it.

The buzzing sound began to subtly alter, as if it were a radio being tuned to the correct channel. When it finally became audible, it chilled the hearts of everyone who heard it.

It was broken screaming, as though maker had been doing so for some time. The cracked sound of a despairing, dying animal.

Strangely, the haunted sound struck a cord within her and for a moment she thought she could decipher words within the cries.

Emma whimpered, at the point of passing out. Dimly, she was aware of a series of thuds as students hit the floor, falling unconscious as they became unable to bear the pain. Several were holding their noses or ears, blood leaking between their fingers.

An irrational thought struck her:

'I better not be bleeding…Blood just will _not_ come out of this outfit…'

The light from the tear flared brightly and a roaring sound filled the room as a dark silhouette appeared, illuminated in its glare.

* * *

_Brain fried tonight through misuse  
Through misuse, through misuse  
You can't avoid static abuse  
Abuse, abuse _

Without these pills you're let loose  
You're let loose, you're let loose  
Take off, get out, no excuse  
No excuse, no excuse

What's that coming over the hill  
Is it a monster? Is it a monster?  
What's that coming over the hill  
Is it a monster? Is it a monster?  
What's that coming over the hill  
Is it a monster? Is it a monster?  
What's that coming over the hill?

Confused, mind bruised, it seeps out  
It seeps out, it seeps out  
Face down, home town looks so grey  
Looks so grey, looks so grey

Convexed you bend, twist and shout  
Twist and shout, twist and shout  
Stand up, brush off, get moving  
Get moving, get moving

What's that coming over the hill  
Is it a monster? Is it a monster?

_**- The Automatic, Monster**_

**Author notes:**

All information on X-men was gathered from UncannyX-men. Net and Wikipedia (man I love that site) Any OOC-ness is deliberate...But there shouldn't be much.

Thanks to all who have reviewed so far.


	4. Chapter 4: Who Are You

**Disclaimer:**

See chapter 1.

**Chapter 4: Who Are You**

Emma stared in disbelief. The silhouette was becoming larger and more clearly defined than before. Thankfully the screaming had stopped.

It was a boy.

She wasn't quite sure _what_ she'd expected after the gash had appeared, but she was certain a boy wasn't it. Maybe a demonic other-world creature…?

'I really have been living here for_too_ long…'

Although she couldn't rule out the possibility that he was only be _appearing_ to be human…

There was smoke drifting up off him and black grime and blood was smeared across his feminine features. He looked like he'd been on the losing end of a fight; scratches covered his face, blood was soaking through in patches on his clothes making them stick to his body and he seemed to be having trouble breathing. Each breath he took rasped wetly and a crimson mist seemed to be exhaled from between his lips.

His body was gradually growing awkwardly upside down out of the slit. From the way the boy was hanging, when he actually fell, he was going to hit the floor head first and with some force. This was demonstrated seconds later, when the dark brown duffel bag which had been slung across his narrow shoulders, slipped off and over his head and hit her desk with a dull 'thump'.

Glancing round the room, Emma saw most of the students had recovered and were now watching in open-mouthed amazement at what was happening. She rose onto shaky feet and leaned against her desk for support as she moved nearer.

She knew she should be wary.

Her headache had almost instantaneously disappeared as soon as _he_ had appeared.

And he was coming through the _ceiling_, for goodness's sake!

But there was something about him…He seemed strangely familiar, as if she'd seen a photograph of him before…Or perhaps glimpsed somewhere in a dream…

Emma gave a self-deprecating half-smile at her ridiculously childish romanticisms and shook her head, grateful to do so without a stabbing pain.

She took a step closer. Instinctively, she _knew_ there would be no danger from this boy and so she took the opportunity to observe him.

He was rather beautiful in a delicate way. His hair was typically short -shaved at the back but with longer strands falling haphazardly towards the front- and an attractive reddish-brown, but matted with sweat, black grime and what looked like dry blood.

His body was swathed in baggy blood-stained clothes; a khaki green army jacket covered his upper half along with a dirty-looking grey t-shirt. His lower extremities were only just becoming visible and Emma suddenly became aware of the students talking. She glanced sideways at them and was relieved to note that they all appeared to have recovered from briefly passing out and seemed to be suffering no ill effects.

"Ah mah Gad, 'e's comin' through tha ceilin'!"

"For a half-dead looking dude, he looks pretty _damn_ good to me…"

"Ladies, please, you can _all_ have a turn with Jamie, there's _more_ than enough of him to go around…"

Someone snorted. "You wish."

"Why is he talking in the third person? Only super-villains do that…"

"And this is supposed to be more unbelievable than anything else we've faced, how?"

Well, at least they weren't panicking…

Emma turned her attention back to the boy and felt an odd excitement rush through her as she saw only his feet had yet to be released, his legs were encased in torn and baggy jeans. She stared at him, hanging limply upside down and was secretly amazed he could manage it look completely natural while unconscious.

_Completely_ unconscious…

Grimacing slightly at the remaining twinge she received from doing so, Emma stretched out her telepathy towards the hanging figure.

And almost fell over in shock when she encountered nothing.

There wasn't even the _faintest _signs that the person in front of her had brain activity. That couldn't be right! Every living creature (except plants, of course) had a psychic signature, even if she couldn't decipher it…

Animals were quite beyond her ken, though she'd never admit it. Ones with smaller brains like rats and pigeons (basically the same thing) were supposedly too simple for telepaths to 'read'. ._Jean_ had been able to communicate with higher functioning animals like dolphins and primates…

It was the sign of a very powerful telepath.

Damn her.

But that couldn't be right, she could still see his chest moving weakly, he _was_ alive! There must be _some_ trace…Even brain dead people had a psychic signature… But there wasn't even traces of a mental shield or barrier…It just wasn't possible!

'And I suppose appearing through a glowing white tear in the ceiling of a classroom full of mutants is?' She thought sarcastically to herself.

Suddenly there was a 'bamf' sound of air being displaced and the acrid stench of sulphur, as Kurt Wagner AKA "Nightcrawler" appeared on her classroom's window sill in a battle pose, obviously ready for trouble. His golden, pupiless eyes darted around the room.

"Fräulein Frost, are you al-" He stopped as he caught sight of the upside boy. "Mein Gott!" An annoying valley-high school accented voice called out in bored tones;

"Kurt, like, what's the sitch? Has _Mrs._ Frost's lesson gotten out of control again?" Emma felt herself bristle, much like a cat faced with a particularly obnoxious and salivating dog.

"Ah…Not exactly…" He trailed off, obviously confused about how to classify the situation. His blue demon-shaped tail flicked anxiously as he stepped down from the sill and his three-fingered hands clenched defensively around his drawn cutlasses.

'Mrs…? And what does she _mean_, _again_!' However, outwardly, Emma merely raised an eyebrow.

"Katherine _dear_, so _glad_ you could join us…I know how _hard_ it is for you to drag yourself away from your little dungeon…Interaction with people must be _quite_ the adjustment after spending all day with machines that are programmed to do whatever you command…" She drawled as the girl appeared; her head and shoulders drifting up through the floor. Katherine "Kitty" Anne Pryde AKA "Shadowcat" flushed an angry red. Her most recent boyfriend, a human, had recently broken up with her. He had not given the usual "You're a mutant freak!" reason for the break-up however, but rather the more embarrassing (and amusing in Emma's opinion) one of: "You're a _control_ freak!"

It was still a sore spot.

One that Emma exploited with absolutely no compunction whatsoever.

"Oh yeah? Well _you_ woul-" Here her, as she would later claim, extremely witty and cutting rejoinder was interrupted by the classroom door being smashed open. Three figures leapt into the room.

"Rachel!" Scott yelled, disproportionately alarmed. His ruby sunglasses masked the movement of his eyes, but suddenly he had bounded across the room and swept her into his arms. Dr. Henry "Hank" McCoy AKA "Beast" and Elisabeth "Betsy" Glorianna Braddock AKA "Psylocke" were close behind.

"I'm _fine_, dad." Rachel managed, smothered in his protective embrace. Emma tried not to stare longingly at the display of love and affection, focusing instead on the boy.

She was _not_ wishing he would hold her like that…

"You're _bleeding_!" His voice rose in concern and Emma heard a snort of derision from Rachel.

"Jeez dad, it's just a _nosebleed_. Calm down."

"How did this happen!" Scott's voice became angry. "Emma, what have you been doing in this class!" He was trying to blame _her_? Emma turned slowly, reluctantly taking her attention off the helpless boy and stared at him.

"Scott _darling_, it can't have escaped your attention that we have a guest, can it?" She raised an eyebrow questioningly, masking her hurt that he had instantly accused _her_ of harming Rachel behind icy irony.

He hadn't even asked if _she_ was alright…

Scott's head turned slightly, as did Elisabeth and Hank's, to take in the sight of the suspended young man.

"Oh my word!" Exclaimed Hank, reaching up with one blue-furred paw to smooth back his mane from golden feline eyes. His bestial body relaxed from it's aggressive posture in surprise. "Where did he come from?" He asked, adjusting his spectacles as if doing so would suddenly change what he was seeing.

"He's dead." Elisabeth stated flatly, in an upper-class British accent, while her Eurasian features stared inquisitively up at him. Fear flared briefly in Emma's heart. "My, my…He's taken quite the beating, hasn't he?"

The 'corpse' chose that moment to complete it's passage through the rip and fell out ungracefully. Moving with a speed that she would not have believed possible of herself, Emma darted forward and managed to catch him awkwardly in her arms.

Kurt hadn't even had time to teleport.

There was another brief flash of light as the rip sealed itself completely, leaving no trace of it's existence.

"Well. That's something you don't see everyday." Elisabeth commented lightly, only the slight tightening around her eyes showing her concern.

Emma glanced down at the body resting peacefully in her arms and was transfixed. Tendrils of russet fringe curled against the weathered and darkened skin of his forehead, while his full red lips were marred by several bloody splits. One cheek was raised and purpling; obviously severely bruised. His cheek bones were high, lending him a slightly elvish cast which was only emphasised by his delicately curved ears. Blood was trickling from one of his nostrils and she carefully wiped it away with her thumb, wondering briefly at the spark of tenderness she felt as she did so.

"What-?" A voice, coming from right beside her startled Emma badly and she almost dropped her precious burden. "Excuse me, Emma. I did not intend to startle you." Hank spoke soothingly to Emma, perhaps sensing her turbulent state.

"I-it's alright Henry. I don't know what's been the matter with me today…But, he's badly hurt. I can't even feel his mind. We need to get him to the Med Lab as soon as possible." Unconsciously, Emma spoke more softly, futilely trying not to disturb the insensate boy. She stared fixedly at the boy's chest and was reassured to see the slow movement indicating he was still alive.

She was surprised how relieved she felt knowing that.

"Of course," Hank agreed, eyeing the slashes and bruises with some concern. "Kurt, could you manage two passengers?" Nightcrawler bowed deeply.

"It would be my pleasure, Herr McCoy." He replied, stepping forward.

"Wait," Emma spoke quickly, holding him closer, "can you take three?" Everyone's eyebrows rose simultaneously. This was unusual behaviour, especially from one so typically distant as Emma.

"I-well…yes Fräulein, if you are sure... ?" He asked hesitantly.

"NO! He shouldn't be going _anywhere _until we're certain he's not a threat to the Mansion!" Scott said angrily, finally distracted from his overprotective mothering of Rachel. Betsy looked at him, amused.

"Yes, you're quite right Scott. He's _definitely_ a threat, isn't he? Look at him, all big strong and manly…Quite _obviously_ a dangerous foe, he has that standard evil 'I'm-plotting-the-downfall-of-you-all-' look about him…" She grinned at him, her clear British accent somehow sounding all the more mocking, and tossed her purple hair out of her face, exposing the red lightening tattoo over her left eye. Scott flushed angrily.

"He probably caused all these headaches, fainting and nose-bleeds. If that's his power or a side-effect of his power, I'd say that's pretty darn _dangerous_!" Emma was becoming impatient. They did not have much time, she could barely feel the movement of ribs now and she was becoming irritated with Scott's, however well-meaning, paranoia.

"At the moment the only _dangerous _thing about him is his health if it doesn't get medical attention soon!" Retorted Emma, less than amused. "This isn't the time for discussion, Scott. Henry needs to treat him now, before he gets even weaker. He's in any position _now _to harm _anyone_. Kurt, if you would…?" Emma snapped and turned away ignoring him. Scott sucked his cheeks in and folded his arms, the very picture of displeasure.

"Ja." Kurt looked slightly uncertain at Scott's obvious disapproval, but stepped forward and paced one hand on each of their shoulders.

"I don't agree with this Emma, he is a dangerous unknown. This could be one of Mystique's plots, we should find out more about him before we compromise our security like this. I'm strongly against this course of action, as Team Leader and Headmaster, I want it on the record that I objected very seriously to this. As Headmistress I think it's your responsibility to the children, to ensure their safety above all!"

"Damn it Scott! Can't you see he _is_ a child?" The boy couldn't be more than sixteen. His face was creased in innocence and Emma clenched her jaw to prevent the rest of the undoubtedly acidic comeback on the tip of tongue from escaping. She wasn't feeling particularly tolerant of his paranoid fears at the moment; they were just wasting valuable time. If Scott caused his death…

She nodded curtly at Nightcrawler, reigning in her anger and frustration at Scott being so high-handed. He seemed to have forgotten they were supposed to be equals and that her opinion counted for as much as his. Maybe more so because she seemed to be doing all the work recently…

The classroom disappeared in a 'bamf' of black smoke and for a split second there was only darkness. Then black smoke was clearing from around them again and the sterile interior of the Med Lab surrounded them.

"Thank you Kurt. Emma put him on the examination table here." Said Beast, quickly shrugging into a white lab coat. She followed his directions and reluctantly placed the boy down and smoothing his long fringe out of his eyes as she did so. Her arms felt cold as his shared warmth gradually left her.

It had been nice to hold someone.

'For God's sake, Frost! Get a grip! Are you really so starved for human contact, you'd miss holding a comatose boy!'

Angrily, she jerked her hand away and strode over to Hank, who was pulling some white rubber gloves on, taking care not to rip the material.

"Let's get started, shall we?" He said calmly, no trace of worry or concern about his critical patient. He picked up a tray of sharp, shiny implements and stood beside the examination table. Kurt paled as much as his dark inky blue skin would allow and his pupiless golden eyes widened.

"I haff, ah, some important matters to attend to…If you do not require any further assistance…?" He asked pleadingly, eyes avoiding the medical tools studiously, while his tail betrayed his agitated state as it twitched and writhed behind him. Hank's face curled up into a smile, as much as his muzzle would allow,anyway.

"Very well, I would not wish to _detain_ you…"

"I vill pray for his soul. Herr McCoy, Fräulein Frost, if you vill excuse me... " Kurt gave a relieved smile, then bowed to Emma and him before disappearing in another 'bamf' of black smoke.

Hank then seemed to forget Emma's existence altogether and he set to swiftly and efficiently examining his patient, muttering aloud as he did so. She stood silently next to him and watched intently as he took a pair of long, sharp scissors and began to cut up the middle of the t-shirt.

"Emma," she started slightly, "could you lift him up and pull his jacket off? I need to be able to see the extent of the damage for myself." Emma nodded and walked around to the opposite side of the table. She slipped her arm behind the boy's back, gently supporting his weight and allowing the jacket to slip off relatively easily.

"Thank you. Now, I'll just remove this…" He muttered, finishing snipping the t-shirt and peeling it open. "Oh my stars and garters!" Emma moved quickly over to him, heart pounding.

"Henry?" She questioned and seeing his shocked expression, followed his eyes downwards to where they were fixed.

She blinked.

Oh.

He was a she.

_

* * *

_

_Well, who are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)  
I really wanna know (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)  
Tell me, who are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)  
'Cause I really wanna know (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)_

_The Who, Who Are You (chorus)_

**

* * *

**

**Author notes:**

The 'bamf' noise is the official sound Nightcrawler makes in the comics when teleporting. Weird but true…

BTW – **b ()** mentioned something about Psylocke and Emma way back in their first review, so here's my response (I kept forgetting):

After the Shadow King incident Psylocke/_ no longer had the use of her own telepathy and is immune to any form of others' telepathy– including telepathic attacks, __probes or even attempts at communication (a result of her brother Jamie's manipulation of the quantum strings that comprise her body). She's also immune or at least highly-resistant to other forms of psychic based powers like ex-marauder Vertigo's extreme disorientation powers. Due to Jamie's alterations, Psylocke is also immune to any physical and mental alteration by beings who can radically restructure reality, like Proteus or the Shadow King (although she can still be killed in more traditional manners, such as being stabbed or shot). Her current psi-shields are also of enormous strength and completely out of her control (she can not lower them to "invite" telepaths or other psychic beings into her mind etc)./ _

And Emma:

_/Upon their meeting in Genosha Cassandra Nova labelled Emma's psychic abilities as 'bush league' in comparison to herself. Regardless of that statement, Emma can formidably hold her own even against those of more considerable might. An example of this was her victory over Rachel Grey (Marvel Girl II) on the Astral Plane; while Rachel may have had significantly more raw power, Emma's refined skills enabled her to claim victory over the relatively inexperienced Rachel. Also in contrast to Cassandra Nova's claim, other characters in the comics and canon writers label Emma as a "high-order telepath," capable of _**extraordinary**_ telepathic feats_./

As I once told a friend of mine: "Boom. She rules." (grin)

Text from Wikipedia, the online bible for **everything**.

Comments/reviews/speculations arealways welcome.


	5. Chapter 5:The Chronicles of Life & Death

**Disclaimers:**

See chapter 1.

**Chapter 5: The Chronicles of Life & Death **

Staring down at the pair of, though admittedly flat, but undeniably feminine breasts, Emma had one question:

How the hell had she missed _that_?

Her question was answered a second later as she caught sight of the tattered remnants of previously white bandages, fluttering to the floor. Which only brought about the _new_ question of **why **they had been bound in the first place…?

Emma smirked to herself, at least _her_ facial features made a lot more sense. Then she realised she was still staring and uncharacteristically flushed, averting her eyes. In doing so, she caught sight of Henry. His eyes were glued with seemingly fascinated incomprehension at the girl's bare chest. Annoyance flickered in her.

"…Well, what are you waiting for?" She said sharply, jolting him out of his frozen state. "It's nothing you haven't seen before!" He had the grace to look embarrassed as he adjusted his small wire-rimmed spectacles.

"Ahem. Quite. Er, well," He placed his stethoscope on her chest, listening intently to her breathe and then placed two fingers on her arterial pulse point. "Definitely internal bleeding. Several of the ribs are broken and the lungs have been punctured. The scratches and bruises are mostly superficial, but she's lost a lot of blood, her pulse is extremely weak. And-" here he peeled back an eyelid and hissed. "A number of blood vessels have burst in her eyes. Her body must've been under extreme pressure…" Emma crossed her arms protectively over her flat stomach and bit her lip. She remained silent as he carefully ran a hand-held scanning device over the body. Henry's agitation was palpable as he visibly struggled to try and conceal something from her.

"What else." It wasn't a question.

Hank took a deep breath. "Emma, from what I can tell, she's suffered massive trauma…Her liver and kidneys have been perforated by the angles the ribs have broken at…The amount of blood she's lost…She's obviously been malnourished and starved, if the ribs weren't so distorted you'd be able to see the skin around them is abnormally sunken…in this state, amenorrhea has probably set in and at the very _least_, her immune system is severely weakened…With the amount of sugery she needs, it's very unlikely she'll survive." Emma's jaw clenched and she glanced down at the broken girl. Eyelashes rested gently against her unnaturally pale cheeks and her breathing sounded wet and shallow, while blood oozed out of the corner of her mouth. The torso was frighteningly thin and decorated with a tapastry of bruises, though the usual shape of the ribcage was crunched unnaturely inwards.

"Can you shed anymore light on how she appeared here?" He asked anxiously, "Anything may help me at this point."

Pushing aside the sensation of unreality at his words, Emma reached out mentally and projected the confused minutes leading up to and including the girl's unexpected appearance, into Hank's open mind. He gave a sigh.

"I suppose it was too much to hope for…" His brow furrowed slightly. "Do you think she's a mutant?" Emma was slightly nonplussed, it seemed logical but really hadn't occurred to her.

"There's no evidence to suggest not…And the fact she came through a slit in my classroom ceiling to suggest 'yes'." She answered dryly.

'My God,' she suddenly thought, suddenly horrified 'on top of her injuries, she's probably suffering from over-extending her powers too…' Apparently Henry had come to the same conclusion, because he glanced at her wide-eyed.

"What about a blood transfusion?" She asked throat dry and mind flicking feverishly over various possibilities. Maybe she could give some…

Hank shook his head.

"Wouldn't make a difference at this point. From what I can make out, she's inhaled large quantities of carbon monoxide and it's bonded with her haemaglobin…She's gone into acute shock. Her body is shutting down, it's a miracle she's survived this long. It's doubtful she'll regain consciousness." He sounded tired and defeated.

She felt oddly responsible for this girl who had (literally) fallen into her life. The thought of losing her before she even knew her _name_ made something inside contract painfully and a feeling of panic sweep over her.

"What about Warren's donation? If she _is_ a mutant it could save her." She asked deceptively calm and hiding her rising sense of panic. Hank looked at her in surprise. Warren Worthington III AKA "Archangel" was an extremely rich businessman with the mutation of super-strong wings which were capable of flight. He also possessed a healing factor contained in his blood. It enabled him to heal others by mixing his blood with theirs, provided they had a matching bloodtype to his. He donated blood several times a year to the Hank's Med Lab and to other, carefully selected causes.

"My God. I'd completely forgotten!" Hank looked horrified at himself and immediately leapt up. He raced off towards the refridgerated section of the Med Lab to find it.

Emma stepped closer towards the bed again and placed one hand on the girl's forehead, stroking it lightly. It was icily cold to the touch.

"Emma, would you mind leaving please?" Hank called as he hurried back, a red packet held in his hand. Hesitantly she made her way over to the door, but stopped and, had she been anyone else, she would've been accused of hovering. But she was the White Queen and she did _not_ hover.

"You won't need my help?" She asked, more reluctant than she liked to leave the girl alone. Hank shook his head distractedly.

"I need to keep things as serile as possible. With her blood level and immune system's white count so low, it's imperitive to ensure she doesn't catch anything. Warren's blood can only do so much." As he spoke, his hands moved with deft efficiency which belied their bestial appearance, hooking her up to an IV and prepping her for the transfusion. "Blood transfusions have to supress the immune system to ensure the body doesn't attack the new blood and reject it, so I need to be even more cautious…The slightest exposure to any bacteria is potentially lethal for her at the moment." Emma turned away and placed her hand on the door, pausing for a long moment before giving herself a mental shake and leaving.

The door closed with a terrifyingly final _click _behind her.

With outwardly confident movements, she began to stride down the corridor, away from the Med Lab, but she'd only taken a couple of steps before she halted. Her knuckles turned white as she clenched her fists and her mouth became a thin pale line.

Turning on her heel, she spun around and strode back the way she'd came, face expressionless.

'Darling, what _are_ you doing?' She wondered, exasperated, while she flicked her hair over a shoulder. She halted outside the Med Lab door and finally, after a long moment spent staring at it, slumped down the wall next to it and leaned backwards.

She couldn't leave yet.

'What's _wrong_ with me?' Emma thought tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose tightly and closing her eyes. For once, she found herself completely unconcerned about the undoubtably undignified postion she was in. Stilling her breath, she cast her mind back over the events of the day; analysing and mulling over everything that had happened to try and isolate what had managed to rile her up so badly she was losing her composure.

Scott.

'Well, it can't be _that_ much of a surprise, darling…' Her mouth curved into an elegant sneer. Emma recalled his total disregard of her in her own classroom. It was completely understandable to be concerned about the welfare of your only child, 'His only link to Jean' her mind supplied, but to not even _ask_ if she was alright? He barely talked to her at all now. Take this morning for example…

And for God's sake! What was that irrational behaviour about?

Emma could agree with and support his concerns about a complete unknown coming into the Mansion, but to the point where he'd rather sacrifice an, as yet, _innocent_ life? It was a little much for even the _Brotherhood_ to beat up Mystique that badly for her just to infiltrate the Mansion.

Anger flared within her. His casual disregard of the girl's life struck a little too close to home with his treatment of her.

She wasn't a sex toy or a stand-in to be so easily ignored.

Maybe it was time Scott was shown that.

Her heart feebly protested against any course of action. As long as she didn't do anything, things would remain the same.

And safe.

She desperately did not want to be by herself anymore, even if it was a lie.

God, she was pathetic. Emma let the feeling of revulsion sweep over her.

For all her deliberations last night, things still remained unchanged. She was afraid to leave Scott. She thought she'd found in him what she had been unknowingly searching for all these years and to have the veil ripped from her eyes was, to say the least, a disconcerting experience. To have the lie exposed meant that she had been fooling herself for a long time. It meant she had to begin the search again. And she wasn't sure she had the strength to do so anymore.

Everyone wanted something from her. Money, power, sex. It was all and yet not, the same. What she desired, needed, craved, never even entered any of their heads.

She had a gift that enabled her to manipulate anyone into giving her _anything_ but the one thing she desperately craved.

Sometimes she wished she didn't have telepathy. At least she'd be able to fool herself for awhile…

'It doesn't seem to be impeding you _now_, dear. You seem to be doing an absolutely _fabulous_ job of avoiding the truth at the moment.' A snide voice told her.

At least with Scott she wasn't alone. He was someone to hold and be held by. He was handsome, in a boyscout-ish way. She still loved him, didn't she?

But she'd been feeling more alone now than ever before and actual physical closeness between them had become rarer than an _honest_ insurance salesman in hell.

Had she ever really loved _him_? Or just what she _thought _he was?

'You've made your bed darling, now I'm afraid you'll have to lie in it. With Scott.' She told herself.

Snorting in self-disgust, she drew her knees to her chest and rested her head upon them. Trying once again to relax, she shut her eyes.

God, she was tired.

Unwanted, she felt a lethergy creep up upon her; insidious and irresistable, although she did struggle briefly. Emma tried to distract herself from her previous disturbing thoughts and the growing tiredness by turning her attention to the more pressing issue on her mind; the auburn haired girl.

Her inability to contact her was worrying. She'd never met anything or anyone before who was naturally undetectable to telepathy. There were those that had incredibly powerful, nigh on _indestructable_ shields; case in point being Psylocke. Elizabeth had,

after the Shadow King incident, become unable to use her own telepathy as well as being immune to any form of others' telepathy– including telepathic attacks, probes or even attempts at communication. Her current psi-shields were now of enormous strength but completely out of her control and she was unable to lower them and 'invite' telepaths or other psychic beings into her mind. But despite this, Emma could still _sense_ those shields.

Vaguely she remembered that Forge had created an item that performed a similar function of making mutants invisible to telepathy, but he'd stopped making them after the Brotherhood insisted on stealing them, which had lead to all sorts of _interesting _problems…

Where exactly had she come from? Why had had she come _here_? Admittedly the Mansion was often the focus of biazzare and unexplainable phenomena, but could Scott possibly be right? Could it be some elaborate Brotherhood plot? It was unlike Mystique to stoop to such an unoriginal plan though…

Inexplicably, she felt her thoughts calm and a gentle feeling of peace came over her as sleep began to overtake her senses. The best comparision she could come up with to explain the feeling, was it was as if she was a cat being stroked into relaxed pleasurable state by a beloved friend (cats do not have 'owners'). A comforting warmth enfolded her, a siren song luring her into sleep. The exhausting nature of the emotions Emma had experienced and the sudden drop in adrenaline running through her veins meant she could summon no defence against it. She succumbed quickly to the darkness' embrace.

_

* * *

_

_Emma was dreaming._

_She was certain of it, but it didn't feel like any dream she'd had before._

_Surrounding her, there was only an endless black. It was impossible to see anything. Then, out of the dark, a pinprick of light appeared before her. _

_Curious, despite the potential danger, she took a step towards it and suddenly she was enveloped. A roaring sound rushed in her ears, bright shapes coloured her vision and completely disorientated, she fell into a defensive position, closing her eyes. _

_When she ventured to open them she was taken aback by the scene that met her eyes._

_A lone streetlamp flickered fitfully, illuminating a dirty alleyway; rubbish bins strewn around haphazardly with their contents spilling out, covering the damp ground. Lying amongest them, a small body was curled up into a foetal position. The dull glare from the lamp reflected off the body's reddish hair and although the figure was much younger looking, Emma _**knew **_it was _**her**

_Emma took a step forward, instinctively.The girl was young, probably about thirteen, she estimated and seemed so small against the backdrop of refuse. Experimentally, she crouched down and reached out trying to stroke her brow. Her fingers dissapeared through the forehead and reformed once they had passed through. Emma raised an eye brow, she'd never had a dream like this before._

_Emma extended her powers, intending to wake her up. _

_It didn't work. She couldn't access them._

_Frowning she sat back on her heels. _

'_What is going on?'She thought to herself, confused._

_As she mulled over possible explanations, she became aware of a scratching, scrabbling sound. Glancing around, she saw faintly beyond the lamplight's feeble range, dark shapes flitting about. A sense of dread came over her. Beyond the circle of protective light, glittering red eyes glowed with infernal fire._

_Out of the darkness, slinking like a foul wave of pestilence came the most disgusting rats Emma had ever seen. Without realising it, she took a step backwards, accidently leaving the girl unprotected. The abnormally large, black furred and gaunt beasts circled the body slowly as Emma watched in growing horror. Innocent in her unguarded state, the girl did not stir. She tried desperately to distract the creatures attention, but it was to no avail. She was intangible and powerless. They crept closer and closer until they were less than a handsbreath away…_

"_OI!" A loud masculine voice shouted. They scattered, hurrying back to whatever hell pit they had risen from, all the while chittering and squeaking angrily, furious at the loss of their kill."Bloody scavengers…"The voice muttered and a tall, broad-shouldered teen strode into view. "Just me bleedin' luck…" A hand brushed back clean shoulder-length brown hair, a marked contrast to his dirt-stained clothing. He couldn't have been more than sixteen."Hey there kiddo, you okay?"He called out, raising his voice. He clambered unconcernedly over the piles of rotting and decaying rubbish. As he crouched warily over the insensate girl, Emma moved up behind him, both relieved at his timely intervention and suspicious of his motives._

"_Hey, kiddo come on."The youth shook the girl's shoulder. "Rise and shine."Amazingly the girl stirred. "That's it, that's a girl. C'mon you gotta get out o' here before the coppers turn up. Vagrancy is still a crime y'know." _

_Blinking owlishly, she opened her eyes and peered blearily up at him, then moved past to stare directly at Emma, her hazel orbs crinkling in confusion. The same face she'd contemplated_ _before, although much younger, met Emma. There were the same cheekbones, same delicately curved ears and same full lips. Only her hair was different; shoulderlength instead of it's new boyish style. Absurdly, a wave of affection swept over her; she felt protective towards this young, fresh faced and unmarked creature. As the girl continued to gaze steadily at her, Emma held her breath, certain she could be seen, but then the girl's focus shifted, becoming less intense and she was finally released, left feeling oddly bereft. _

'_Interesting,' she thought. This 'dream' was beginning to add up to something very disturbing indeed._

"_Where…?" The girl asked, her voice high and unbroken. _

"_In a back alley offa Hoffman's Street. Got mugged didja?"The boy asked, helping her to her feet. She instantly wobbled and he quickly supported her weight by tucking his shoulder underneath hers. She reached up and touched the back of her head. It came away sticky with blood._

"_I-I think so…My head hurts…" He looked sympathetic._

"_S'alright kiddo, been on the street long?"He asked casually, but Emma saw a genuine heisitancy lingering behind it._

"_Yes." She said quickly, looking away without meeting his eyes. He grinned at the patent lie. However, he ignored it and continued._

" '_appens to the best o' us, darlin'. Not to worry, I know just the place that'll fix you up, no questions asked. By the by, me name's Gareth. Or Gar if you 'ave an 'angover."Gareth smiled charmingly. "So, what's your name, kiddo?"_

"_I'm Jeze-"She paused slightly as if uncertain of whether to divulge the information or not. "Jez."_

"_Jez? An' what's that short for?"He asked grinning at her scowl. It looked like her real name was a sore spot._

"_None-of-your-business." She drawled, rolling her eyes. He laughed delightedly._

"_Ooo, the cub 'as claws! C'mon what is it? Let me guess…_**Jezebel**_?"She refused to respond, only glared silently at him. He continued to laugh, green eyes crinkling in amusement, then sobering minutely, he asked. "D'ya 'ave any family you want me to get 'old of?"A dark look passed over her face. It was clearly a painful memory of an old festering wound, that had never completely healed over._

"_I. Have. _**No**_. Family."She spoke coldly and clearly, enunciating each word and her amber eyes flashed. Her arms went around her waist, hugging tightly, __evidently trying to comfort herself. Emma noticed one hand unconsciously stroked her back gently, as if it hurt._

_Gareth visbly softened. "I never had much time for family either." He said, smiling softly to her and dropped his apparently fake accent for the first time. _

_He glanced back into the alley they were leaving. "Looks like you dragged yourself in there from of the street. Still had some sense in you at least…It's probably what kept you alive.Until those rats showed up looking for an all-you-can-eat buffet, anyway." _

_Jezebel's eyes went wide and she shuddered violently. Gareth shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "C'mon," he said more gently, "Let ol' Gareth help you out. He'll you set you right." Emma, although she retained none of her usual telepathy, could see the sincerity shining earnestly in his eyes and relaxed slightly. Jezebel was safe with him._

_Hesitantly the girl asked, a hint of fear in her eyes, "not a hospital?"_

"_No, no, nuffin' like tha'. Just a mate of mine, who owes me a favour." Gareth spoke soothingly and Jez relaxed._

"_Thanks." For the first time, Jez smiled.It lit up her entire face making her appear ethereal and charming. Emma found the edges of her own lips curling upwards in delight at the sight. _

_Then everything went black._

* * *

_You come in cold,  
You're covered in blood.  
They're all so happy you've arrived.  
The doctor cuts your chord.  
He hands you to your mom.  
She sets you free into this life.  
And where do you go with no destination, no maps to guide you.  
Wouldn't you know that it doesn't matter, we all end up the same. _

These are the chronicles of life and death and everything between.  
These are the stories of our lives, as fictional as they may seem.  
You come in this world, and you go out just the same.  
Today could be the best day of your life.

And money talks in this world,  
That's what idiots will say  
But you'll find out that this world,  
Is just an idiots parade  
Before you go, you've got some questions.  
And you want answers  
But now you're old, cold, covered in blood,  
right back to where you started from

These are the chronicles of life and death and everything between.  
These are the stories of our lives, as fictional as they may seem.  
You come in this world, and you go out just the same.  
Today could be the worst day of your life.

But these are the chronicles of life and death and everything between.  
These are the stories of our lives, as fictional as they may seem.  
You come in this world, and you go out just the same.  
Today could be the best day of,  
Today could be the worst day of,  
Today could be the last day of your life.  
It's your life, your life.

**_- Good Charlotte, The Chronicles Of Life And Death  
_**

**Author Notes:**

One young, attractive story WLTM: a reader for reviews/comments/conspiracy theories etc. Enjoys: long and short reviews. Flamers need not apply.

Ignore me, I'm in a playful mood ;D


	6. Chapter 6: SOS

**Disclaimers:**

See chapter 1.

**Chapter 6: S.O.S**

Emma awoke with a jerk, feeling oddly cold, as though she'd been enwrapped in a warm blanket and had it abruptly taken away from her. And she was certain it had nothing to do with her current attire.

She glanced around, quickly taking in her surroundings and felt both her brows rise. 'It was a dream…' Her glacial blue eyes narrowed in surprise. 'Fascinating…She _is_ a mutant…and can wield that level of power…but it _shouldn't _be possible…Why me? Why did she reach out to me?' She mused silently.

Reaching out carefully, she brushed her thoughts against Henry's to see if she was disturbing him. She felt the welcoming echo of his tired mind and she slipped inside his head.

(How is she?)

(See for yourself) Hank offered and Emma gently moved her conscieness to observe through his eyes.

(My god)

(Amazing isn't it? She was almost gone Emma. There wasn't much left of her after you went. I was certain she wasn't going to make it)

Emma stared through Henry's eyes at the still pale figure lying beneath him. The ribs had formed a more normal shape and the angry purple bruises that had covered her entire torso had faded to a dull pink and any remaining dirt and blood which had coated her thin, rangy body had been removed. Her face had been healed too, with the split lips resealed and the bruises and scratches had disappeared. Emma experienced a stab of concern; Jezebel, if that was her name, looked much worse than in the dream.

(When will she be fully healed?) And then felt Henry's surprise.

(Emma, it took all of _eight_ hours to get to this point; that's about _four_ _times_ the usual period for an X-man suffering the similar injuries) Shock hit her hard and she only just maintained the connection to Hank's mind.

(I see) She managed, completely thrown off guard.

'How could I have been so off?' Recovering slightly, she asked.

(Then why does she still look so ill?) The girl's body, while obviously in much better condition, was evidently thin and emaciated. Tubes and wires grew like grotesque vines of her body, each feeding into a separate machine, monitoring her vital signs.

(The healing factor in Warren's blood only heals according to the recipient's genetic template. It targets discrepencies between the base DNA coding and the current body state and then overwrites any differences, so everything heals. Weight is an environmental factor that it can't take into account, so she'll have to be fed-up by IV. All her scars will be healed.) His mind radiated melancholy sorrow and Emma tried to make her presence feel as soothing and reassuring as she could. (She had so _many_ scars Emma…)

Emma's eyes closed briefly. Intellectually, she knew that Bad Things had happened to Jezebel, indeed it would've been naïve of her to assume otherwise, but still, to have those thoughts confirmed…

(What are the chances of a _full _recovery?) She asked, experiencing a distant feeling of her stomach clenching. There was a distinct wave of regret washing from Henry's mind.

(Emma, I thought you could tell…She isn't-I mean…she's in a coma) This time the shock was too great and Emma lost the connection between their minds.

Emma sat up sharply, heart pounding loudly in her ears. As she stood, she felt her legs protesting violently and a rush of blood went straight to her head, making her vision go white for a moment. Stretching cat-like, she arched her back and rotated her stiff neck; hearing the satisfying 'crack' and 'pop' of cartiliage as she did so.

'I can't beileve she kept me asleep for eight hours…' Then she was pushing through the Med Lab heavy doors to see the situation for herself.

Henry looked surprised to see her. "Emma? How did you-?" He asked bewildered at her abrupt appearence.

"I need to see the EEG's." She said briskly, as he began protesting.

"Emma, I've put her in the isolation unit. You can't go in there." She sighed in exasperation.

"Then print out the last eight hours, dear, and I won't **need **to." Henry looked at her strangely.

"Emma, I haven't had time to set it up yet. I was more concerned with getting her stabilised first, it was taking an unsually long time. She only completely stabilised within the last half hour. Her temperature, pulse, respiratory rate and blood pressure are all normal now…Although for a while her vitals were all extremely erratic…"

Emma made her way over to the glass walled room, where the girl was lying, looking very fragile amongest the tubes and wires feeding into her body. She leaned on the glass observation window by bracing herself with her forearm and scrutinised Jezebel as closely as she could.

"She looks so young…" She murmured.

"Unfortuantely, that's from malnutrition. There was no fat anywhere on her… She hasn't been able to support her body properly due to her poor diet for some time…It's amazing she's grown as tall as she has actually. Usually starvation victims have stunted growth. I would guess she must have been getting food sporadically. "

"How old would you say she is?"

"Estimating from her teeth count and roughly her build…I'd say early twenties."

Emma shook her head. "Really."

"I imagine due to the harsh conditions she grew up in her body didn't ah, have the opportunity to develop …" He blushed slightly at the memory of seeing Jezebel naked and continued. "Her entire body has gone through prolonged stress, not as much energy was used for physical development, that's why she appears younger than she is." Emma was silent a long time, debting over how to approach the subject she wanted to discuss. Finally, she opted for a direct approach.

Well, sort of.

"I had a dream Henry." Emma spoke slowly, as though puzzling over the words.

"I…see…?" he asked, voice confused. Emma wasn't usually one for sharing personal information with anyone. She sighed and brushed hair from her face in an irritated motion.

"It wasn't _my_ dream."

He filled in the unspoken words. "You mean…" He sounded shocked.

"Has she been unconscious this whole time?" She asked, ignoring his question.

"I-I mean yes. She was unconscious when she was brought in here and then she slipped into a deeper coma-like state shortly after the transfusion. It was strange, her vitals were all _off_...not enough to harm her, just- subtly off. They stabilised a little while before you contacted me actually."

Something about that bothered Emma, but she had no time to think upon it because she was more interested in something else. "What were you doing in there anyway, Henry?"

"I was manually checking her blood pressure. But I was wearing the suit Emma." His voice held a hint of warning. She nodded without looking in his direction, never taking her eyes off the still figure.

"I want an EEG monitoring her brainwaves at **all** times Henry. I want to know _every_ damn wave her brain makes." Her flat tone left no room for arguments.

"I'll attach the electrodes now. Although, it'll take at least an hour for the results to be read once the equipments been set up." She heard him move away, then pause. "She's got you interested, hasn't she?" For a long moment, Emma didn't reply, only watched the rhymic rise and fall of the Jezebel's chest.

"I can't sense her Henry. At all. I have the upmost control and precision in the use of my powers and I can't even feel a barrier. Even now with only a sheet of glass seperating us...To all my telepathetic senses she doesn't _exist_. I know the second someone is using telepathy near me or attempts to enter my mind. But _somehow _she managed to bypass **all **my defences. It shouldn't be possible to even _access_ telepathy while unconscious or in a coma. That section of the brain is usually impaired or automatically turned off. It wasn't even just her projecting; she actually pulled me inside her mind and I didn't even sense it or put up a fight! I don't understand _why_ she chose me to communicate with, even if it was subconsciously. If she had brought any others, I would've seen them. But it was just me watching her memories…" Her voice started off calm and collected and then began to speed up, getting faster, until she managed to reign herself in. She was unnerved by the experience and the unwelcome reminder that she wasn't as powerful as she'd like, bothered her. It was yet another reminder of how she would not -could not- measure up to Jean. Despite this unwelcome thoughts however, she found herself becoming more fascinated with their new arrival with every passing minute.

"Maybe she sensed something about you." He offered as she fell silent.

Emma watched closely as Hank walked into the serile room, covered from head-to-foot in a protective suit and carefully attached the electrodes to the girl's forehead with medical paste.

(Henry…)

(Yes, Emma?)

(Has Scott…contacted you?)

(Actually, no. Although I _was_ expecting him to storm down here at the very least)

(And rail at you for upholding that troublesome Hypocratic Oath?) There was a definite smirk to her 'voice'. She found the only way she could cope with Scott's actions at the moment, were to make a joke of them. She tried not to connect the fact that if he _had_ gotten his way Jezebel would be a cooling corpse on the Med Lab table right now.

(Yes) The warmth in his tone told her he was laughing.

(I'll have to explain the situation to the others…)

(What are you going to tell them?)

Emma sucked in a breath and then puffed it out as she thought. It did not seem like a good idea to give Scott even more ammunition against the girl. Especially when she was in such a vulnerable position. But she couldn't lie about her being a mutant either, half of them were already convinced of the opposite after Jezebel's flashy arrival. They would simply be suspicious if she lied outright like that, not to mention the backlash if- **when** she woke up and showed them otherwise.

(The truth)

To a degree.

Henry glanced up at her through the glass and she steadily met his golden gaze. (Don't worry, she has doctor-patient confidentiality even though she's completely unware) He smiled, (I seriously would question the wisdom of telling Scott our little friend here is capable of turning his mind inside out on an unconscious whim) Emma snorted rather inelegantly.

(Lovely. I can picture his response now…"Quick, we've got to hand her over to the S.H.I.E.L.D! She's too much of a risk! _Rachel_ might get hurt!") This last part held bitter undertones which Hank, although not entirely confident with communicating mentally, picked up.

(Is everything alright, Emma?) The inquiry was gentle and non-intrusive. It wasn't pressuring or demanding and offered an unspoken support. Emma considered. She needed someone to understand, somebody to listen. Henry was an extremely kind and warm-hearted man whose bestial appearance belied his sweet and caring personality. He could be what she needed. But he was also Scott's friend. He had been Jean's friend. Although she wouldn't look, she was sure there was some part of him that resented her for her actions before Jean's death.

(No Henry. I've just had trouble sleeping lately)

It wasn't exactly untrue…

She had to deal with this problem herself.

It was a shame she wasn't certain of what exactly that would entail.

* * *

As Emma entered the teacher and senior X-men's dining room, an audible hush fell over the assembled people. She halted in her tracks and scanned the room with her eyes and mind. Everyone seated around the antique mahogany table was abuzz with the news of a dimension traveller. The varying descriptions of Jezebel were actually quite amusing and Emma had to smother an amusedlaugh. Lucas Bishop AKA "Bishop" a burly Australian Aboriginal American, who acted as security and a firearms teacher,was already picturing a shifty-eyed young man ready to explode the Mansion with pyrokinetic powers the second his back was turned. Anna Marie Raven AKA "Rogue" having spoken to Kathryn, was convinced that Jezebel was a sexy-as-hell demon who Emma had summoned in a satanic ritual during her class as a part of her demonstration on Hellfire Club sex slaves. She barely stopped herself from shaking her head in disbelief. Sometimes she wondered about these 'protectors of humanity'…It was inconceivable to her how they'd managed to defeat her time and again…

Glancing around again, she realised quite a few people were missing. Logan 'No-Last-Name-Bub' AKA "Wolverine" a dark haired stocky Canadian mutant with a bad attitude and an evenworse habit of smoking noxious cigars and Rahne Sinclair AKA "Wolfsbane", a red-haired young Scots' woman, had taken some students on a week-long training exercise in the mountains.

Undoubtedly they were cursing the day they were born…

Logan, who had heightened senses, an enhanced healing factor and an adamantium skeleton which granted him the ability to take more damage and to extend and retract a set of fearsome claws from his knuckles, was a harsh taskmaster who hated slackers. Despite his rough and curt outward appearance however, he was actually quite gentle (or at least softer) with those who genuinely struggled or needed help. Rahne possessed the ability to transform into a wolf, as well as the intermediate stages in between that and human, making her the first truewerewolf Emma had encountered. She also had a more responsible side to her that helped balance out Logan quite well.

Remy LeBeau AKA "Gambit", a smooth-talking Cajun charmer was suspiciously absent as well. Emma cast her mind back and recalled him announcing last week to Rogue: "Remy jus' be goin' to take care o' sum business, chere."

Emma thought it was endlessly amusing how Rogue didn't connect all the instances of Remy 'taking care of business' and priceless artefacts being stolen or companies being infiltrated or exploded (Remy had the ability to convert the potential energy of any object into explosive kinetic energy by touching it). Perhaps she didn't _want_ to know. Her amusement turned sour as Emma couldn't help think of all the allowances and excuses she'd made for Scott…Wasn't love marvellous.

Since all of Remy's targets had remained enemies of mutants (in fact all had had ties with Humans First or the Church of Humanity -which were zealous anti-mutant groups) she was personally content to leave him to his own devices as long as they didn't draw attention to the mansion.

She was snapped out of her reverie by a male voice.

"Fräulein Frost, you are hungry, I trust?" as always, Kurt was gallent, standing gracefully and pulled out her chair. Beside it she noticed, for once, that Scott was present. He was glowering in her general direction.

'Well, this should be pleasant…I've always enjoyed family meal times…' She thought dryly.

"I always manage to summon some appetite for the deliciously high standard of food that's on offer here, Kurt." She remarked somewhat sarcastically. Then her eyes fell on the 'thing' squatting grotesquely on her plate.

'What in hell's name is that!' **It** was green and chunky and wobbled dangerously on her plate…'My God,' she thought desperately, sitting down and ignoring people's inquisitive stares, 'I'm going to be sick.' The strange **thing** (food? How could this _possibly_ be classed as food?) seemed to be mocking her, shaking slightly as the movement of seating herself set it into motion.

"And what is this delightful creation?" She asked faintly, hoping she didn't look as pale as she felt.

"Jello." Supplied Kitty helpfully, taking advantage of the fact she had Emma's attention to scoop an extra large piece on her spoon and gulp it into her mouth with an obscene slurping sound. Emma felt her stomach twist and churn painfully.

"Charming. I can see how you attract men." she stated calmly, pretending Kitty wasn't grinning at her like a cat who had cornered a fat mouse into a corner, "But, that is quite possibly the most repulsive thing I've ever had the misfortune of witnessing. Including last week when you were excavating that man's tonsils with your tongue right outside the Mansion, Elisabeth." Betsy snorted as if to say she could care less what Emma thought. She continued. "This is to be banned from the menu. It almost certainly has no nutritional value whatsoever, Kurt, remove it from my plate."

"Emma stop stalling. Just tell us what happened to that scruffy little brat." Scott snapped from beside her, his nostrils flaring in irritation and arms crossing aggressively over his broad chest. Emma's eyes flashed in response. Ororo Munroe AKA "Storm" a tall, cocoa skinned young woman with startlingly white hair, considering her African ancestry, interjected.

"I must admit to some curiosity over our newest addition, Emma. Can you shed any light on the truth of the rumours circulating the student body?" Her voice was smooth and melodic, matching her temperament perfectly and making her a favourite amongst the students. No one was afraid of Ms. Munroe, despite her awesome powers of atmokinesis which enabled her to sense, control and influence meteorological energy patterns; creating rain, wind, hail, lightning, snow, sleet, fog, temperature changes and even wind (which gave her the ability to fly). She was also invulnerable to the effects of the weather and to extreme heat and cold. Storm was a true earth mother in every sense of the word; she had an empathy/affinity for the planet and was aware of every living thing, even being able to innately 'sense' if a tree was ill.

Having been one of the original X-men, someone Emma had targeted specifically and Scott and Jean's best friend, she did not like Emma at all. She had stated very quietly and composedly to Emma after Jean had died that if she found out Emma was using Scott in any way, she would show her exactly "what happens to human flesh when hit by lightening". Emma had had no problem accepting the threat.

"I think you'll all find what I have to say reasonably enlightening." Everyone seemed to lean forward in their seats. "I suppose first and foremost is that 'he' is actually a 'she'," there was a mental and spoken buzz as people muttered furiously to their neighbours. The general feeling among the women seemed to be 'damn it!' with a few exceptions…and an overwhelming 'hell yeah' from the men…also with a few notable exceptions…Emma tired of waiting for silence relatively quickly and called for quiet, reinforcing it with a mental command. Everyone fell silent. "Secondly is that it seems extremely likely that she is a mutant, but Henry _doesn't know _what her power is." Scott opened his mouth. "She has no psychic presence, so I've been unable to scan her yet."

"What about Cerebro?" Scott said pugnaciously. Emma opened her mouth to release a scathing retort, but Elizabeth intervened. Sort of.

"Emma's a lot of things Scott…Some of them rather unpleasant…" Emma raised an eyebrow. "But a mental rapist, I'm glad to say, isn't one of them." Her dry drawl seemed to hold an undercurrent of anger. "She can't use Cerebro just to read _one_ kid's thoughts…especially one whose only crime so far has been to be injured and cause a few migraines and nosebleeds, which while annoying, is _hardly_ life threatening…It rather brings to mind using a nuclear bomb to swat a mosquito…"

Scott shut his mouth, but the expression on his face like he'd smelled something repulsive remained. More muttering started and Kitty spoke up, thankfully changing the subject.

"Well, like, how did she get here in the first place? And what exactly does she want?" She sounded suspicious and Emma could sense she'd been greatly disappointed by apparent sex change.

"She's not exactly talkative at the moment Kathryn." She replied sarcastically and Scott exploded.

"She's WHAT?"

Emma smoothly cut in, containing her own growing impatience and disgust at both his previous and current behaviour. "Calm yourself dear, there's no need for histrionics. If you all would just let me speak you'd understand the situation a lot sooner." Scott still looking angry and mistrustful lowered himself back into his seat. Emma mentally gathered herself. These almost violent outbursts had become more and more common after Jean's death and always caught her unprepared because Scott had always been cool and collected. And now he would not let her help him…She pulled herself back to the present. "She has been through hell. This was clear from her injuries. Both in the short term and the long." Here with clinical detachment she projected the images of Jezebel's broken and battered body into everyone's mind and listed them aloud for Elisabeth's benefit. There were gasps and shaking of heads. Many looked shaken. Scott however remained unmoved, arms folded and a frown on his face.

"Why didn't she die then, if her wounds were so bad?" asked Elisabeth curiously, ignoring the conversations of the people around her. Emma smiled mirthlessly, poured herself a glass of water and began outline the rest of the situation, making certain to leave out key points like Jezebel's name, the dream she'd had and telepathy. When she had finished, there was a stunned silence.

"So she mah't not wake up?" Rogue asked concerned, her southern twang more noticeable as she was unsettled. Emma assumed an uninterested expression, grateful that Tessa was away on a reconnaissance mission, because she would've seen straight through it.

"Henry has no idea of when or even _if_ she'll regain consciousness."

'No,' a voice told her firmly, 'you _will_ wake her up.'

The buzz of voices and yet _more _questions, comment and outrageous conspiracy theories (headed by Bishop and Scott) started up again and Emma suppressed a groan. This was going to be a long evening if she wanted to keep their suspicion to a minimum.

And she still hadn't had anything to eat…

* * *

_Is anybody listening?  
Can you hear me when I call?  
I'm shooting signals in the air,  
'Cause I need somebody's help  
I can't make it on my own,  
So I'm giving up myself  
Is anybody listening, listening?  
__  
I've been stranded here and I'm miles away  
Making signals and hoping they save me  
I lock myself inside these walls  
'Cause out there I'm always wrong  
I don't think I'm gonna make it  
So while I'm sitting here on the eve of my defeat  
I write this letter and hope it saves me  
__  
Is anybody listening?  
Can you hear me when I call?  
I'm shooting signals in the air  
'Cause I need somebody's help  
I can't make it on my own  
So I'm giving up myself  
Is anybody listening, listening?  
__  
I'm stuck in my own head and I'm oceans away  
Would anybody notice if I chose to stay?  
I'll send an S.O.S. tonight  
And wonder if I will survive  
How in the hell did I get so far away this time?  
So now I'm sitting here  
The time of my departure's near  
I say a prayer please, someone save me _

I'm lost here  
I can't make it on my own  
I don't wanna die alone  
I'm so scared  
Drowning now  
Reaching out  
Holding on to everything I know  
Crying out  
Dying now  
Need some help

_  
Is anybody listening?  
Can you hear me when I call?  
Shooting signals in the air  
I need somebody's help  
I can't make it on my own  
I'm giving up myself  
Is anybody listening? _

**Author notes:**

Thanks to all who reviewed last chapter, you're the best!

Two Good Charlotte songs in a row…I think I'm rather disappointed with myself…

Medical notes (I feel well important ;D) :

Amenorrhoea - _is the absence of a menstrual period in a woman of reproductive age. Female athletes or women who perform considerable amounts of exercise on a regular basis are at risk of developing 'athletic' amenorrhoea. Those who are in high emotionally stressful jobs or those experiancing extreme weight loss (or starvation) also experience it. It is suspected that low body fat levels and exercise related chemicals (such as beta endorphins and catecholamines) disrupt the interplay of the sex hormones oestrogen and progesterone and prevent the lining from being released._

EEG – _Electroencephalography is the neurophysiologic measurement of the electrical activity of the brain by recording from electrodes placed on the scalp or, in special cases, subdurally or in the cerebral cortex. The resulting traces are known as an electroencephalogram (EEG) and represent an electrical signal (postsynaptic potentials) from a large number of neurons. These are sometimes called brainwaves, though this use is discouraged. The EEG is a brain function test, but in clinical use it is a "gross correlate of brain activity". Electrical currents are not measured, rather it is voltage differences between different parts of the brain are measured. _

_EEGs are frequently used in experimentation because the process is non-invasive to the research subject. The subject does not need to make a decision or behavioral action in order to log data, and it can detect covert responses to stimuli, such as reading. The EEG is capable of detecting changes in electrical activity in the brain on a millisecond-level. It is one of the few techniques available that has such high temporal resolution. _

IV – _Intravenous therapy or IV therapy is the administration of liquid substances directly into a vein. It can be intermittent or continuous; continuous administration is called an intravenous drip. The word intravenous simply means "within a vein", but is most commonly used to refer to IV therapy. __Compared with other routes of administration, the intravenous route is the fastest way to deliver fluids and medications throughout the body. Some medications, as well as blood transfusions and lethal injections, can only be given intravenously._

This chapter took the longest to write (ah re-writes, how I hate thee…)

The medical information should be reasonably accurate (but I got it off the internet, so who knows…?).

Feedback is good for the heart! Low in fibre, high in Vitimin A, B and D! Tastes good on chips! (…?)

BTW – I'm going away somewhere computers haven't been even **heard **of yet for awhile, so you may want to put this on your alerts…


	7. Chapter 7: Out of Reach

**Disclaimer:**

See chapter 1.

**Chapter 7: Out of Reach**

Emma flopped gracelessly onto the bed. She felt wrung out and remarkably like a used tube of toothpaste. Her clothes were tight and uncomfortable against her skin and she shed them with relief, replacing them with her thin satin robe (white of course).

At least the interrogation was over now.

She flung up an arm to cover her eyes as the door slammed.

Then again, maybe not.

"What was that today!" Scott demanded hotly, storming up and down the room. Without moving her arm, Emma could tell he was running his hand frantically through his hair, making it stick up. She'd thought it was charming once. Everything seemed now to be suffixed by 'once'…

"I don't know what you're talking about Scott." She spoke wearily. Dodging and evading questions always took a lot out of her and now she just wanted to rest.

"How could you allow students to get hurt in your class! A class with Rachel in!" Emma sat up abruptly and glared at him, eyes glacial cold.

She could not believe what she was hearing.

"What makes you think I had any control over what happened, Scott?" She asked coldly. How dare he think that! After all she'd done for him? For the school? "I was just as affected as the students! And Rachel shouldn't be any more or less important than Robert, Jubilation or any of the children, for that matter!"

'You didn't ask how I was and you still haven't…' She thought, heart constricting painfully.

"Emma, you're a strong telepath and Headmistress of this school! You can construct psionic shields, which should have been enough to protect yourself and them! You have a telepathically immune diamond form! How did you manage to do nothing?" He retorted, jutting his chin out aggressively.

"Did you even _notice_ how strongly the telepaths in that room were affected?" She asked, annoyed. Her arms aggressively crossed underneath her breasts, for once, unintentionally pushing them upwards. His accusations were disturbing her. She had been in too much mental pain to consider alternate strategies, but this truth did not prevent searing guilt from burning through her.

"That's not an excuse! You should have known to keep your shields high AND you should have taught your students better. They wouldn't have been so badly affected if they had been given proper teaching!" Emma went red. Memories of her Hellions, her beloved Hellions, lying dead and broken, their faces slack in surprise, hit her hard.

"You. Ignorant. Little. Fool." She whispered hoarsely, hurt and betrayal seeming to clamp down on her lungs, making speaking difficult. She felt as if her skin had been peeled back and she was left soft and defenceless for his words to tear into her flesh. Him going anywhere _away_ from her _right now_ would be absolutely smashing, so long as she did not have to look at him or feel his uncomfortable mental presence around her a moment longer.

He had gone too far. But he ignored the warning signs and red flashing lights.

"And letting that girl so easily into the Mansion? She could murder anybody in their beds and we wouldn't find out until she was five states away!"

Emma snapped.

"You are talking about denying medical attention to a woman who had severe internal bleeding, fatal smoke inhalation, concussion, broken ribs, punctured liver, kidneys and lungs AND somehow, despite all this, managed to survive bringing herself somewhere, deliberately or not, to help herself. You are talking about the difference between life and death. You are talking about **killing** a young woman." She took a shuddering breath, eyes closing. "Get OUT." They flew open as she hissed, her gaze seeming to freeze the air in front of her. The temperature in the room seemed to drop by several degrees. Emma could not believe what she was hearing. She wanted Scott away from her _now_.

"You also undermined my authority in front of the students AND other staff members!" Scott continued blithely, seemingly oblivious or perhaps simply uncaring, of the mounting fury of the woman in front of him. Emma resisted the oh-so-strong but completely unethical urge to rifle through his mind and forcing him to leave the room, with the additional possibility of making him do something extremely embarrassing once he left her sight. Barking like a dog every time he heard his name was looking attractive…But no, that would be something the _old_ her would've done. Being the White Queen was looking more and more attractive by the minute...

"That wouldn't be true even if there **was** something for me to undermine. And have you forgotten Elisabeth questioned you as well? Or that Kurt was the one who teleported us out? OR that Henry was the one actually saving her life?" She sneered, in full ice bitch mode. Emma could feel her fury and pain pumping madly within her body, each struggling for dominance over the other. "_I_ have been running things around here Scott. _You've_ been content to run around in a skin-tight spandex costume and ignore the daily concerns of this institute. You've been too long wrapped up in your own concerns and blind to what's happening around you."

(_Jean_, would never have done this.) The thought was projected clearly into the air between them. Emma felt as though all the air had been sucked from her lungs. She scrabbled to retain the illusion of composure.

"I don't know if you've noticed Scott _dear_, but I. Am. Not. Jean." She said calmly, all the while feeling her heart thud painfully in her chest.

"I can't help _but _notice…" He said bitterly and Emma flinched inwardly.

"If you could let her go, then we could be something." Emma whispered softly, deflating slightly, wanting, more than _believing_ it to be true. This was the closest they'd ever been to talking about the ghost of Jean haunting their relationship.

"I don't know if I can."

She sighed. Why didn't that surprise her?

"You need to leave Scott. I don't want to be in the same house, let alone room as you right now. " His jaw stiffened and his fists clenched.

"I'm not leaving Rachel."

'Do you care about anyone else?' She wondered briefly.

"I never said you had to, I just don't want you in _here_." She said shortly, acting as blasé as she could.

"Fine." He ground out and stamped past her, every line of his body radiating anger. The overhead light glinted off his red glasses, making him appear demonic and inhuman. Emma clasped her arms tightly around her middle, trying to keep herself from shaking. He stopped at the door with his hand on the knob and turned back, expression inscrutable.

"Well?" She asked, raising an eyebrow and sneering. "The knob turns clockwise if you've forgotten how to operate the door." Scott shook his head slightly, as if to say: 'Women…' and slammed out of the room.

Emma mentally traced his passage down the corridor and safely away, until she finally allowed herself to collapse onto the bed. After creating an inexplicable aversion to walk near her room ("Damn, I forgot to ask…someone…something…") with her powers, she relaxed and stared at the ceiling.

When her vision began to blur, she was confused, until she reached up and touched her cheeks.

Her fingers came away wet.

"Damnit!" She shouted and leapt up. She poured herself a stiff drink like she had last night and drank it in a similar fashion. Distractedly she ran a hand through her hair, sighing heavily.

Well, she had bought herself some much needed time and space.

'It's not like you're much better off…' A voice sneered. 'When he comes back, nothing will have changed. He'll still be the same person; still not in love with you, still not caring about you and _you_ still won't feel the same about him.'

'He would have just _let_ her die…How can I be with someone like that?'

"Shit." Emma said and rubbed her face furiously before pouring another glass. It seemed to fade in and out of sight and she noticed her hand was shaking. Sitting down on her bed, she lay back, eyes closing of their own accord. A curious sensation of warmth crept over her. It felt like someone was soothing and relaxing her mind from the inside out, making all her tension melt away. It seemed familiar…

'This has happened before…' She thought drowsily. Her mind drifted back over the day. The memory of her earlier dream hit her. 'Again? Why…?' But the seductive sensations once again succeeded in lulling their captive into a willing slumber.

_Knew the signs  
Wasn't right  
I was stupid for a while  
Swept away by you  
And now I feel like the fool_

So confused, my heart's bruised  
Was I ever loved by you?

_Out of reach, so far  
I never had your heart  
Out of reach, couldn't see  
We were never meant to be_

Catch myself from despair  
I could drown if I stay here  
Keeping busy every day  
I know I will be okay

_But I was  
So confused, my heart's bruised  
Was I ever loved by you?  
_

_Out of reach, so far  
I never had your heart  
Out of reach, couldn't see  
We were never meant to be_

So much hurt, so much pain  
Takes a while to regain what is lost inside  
And I hope that in time, you'll be out of my mind  
I'll be over you

_But now I'm  
So confused, my heart's bruised  
Was I ever loved by you? _

_Out of reach, so far  
I never had your heart  
Out of reach, couldn't see  
We were never meant to be_

Out of reach, so far  
You never gave your heart  
In my reach, I can see  
There's a life out there for me...

**_- Gabrielle, Out of Reach_**

**Author Note: **

Hey there, I'm back...(Aww you missed me, didn't you?)

People, people please do not panic (or adjust your computers) this chapter is horrendously short, I know, I'm even _slightly_ sorry (just a tad)

But bear with me, it's necessary and I believe that Chapter 9 will **more** than make up for it (next chapter will be up quicker too).

Or your money back ;D

BTW - Next chapter, the rating (wait for it) ...is going up (shocked gasps) Yes, I know, I know. I'm rather excited too...

Review…?


	8. Chapter 8: Crazy

**Disclaimers:**

See Chapter 1.

**Chapter 8: Crazy (Part 1)**

_Emma's eyes opened on a very different scene. _

_Jezebel was crouching down behind a row of dustbins in a scruffy street. Despite the fact that she was wearing a black neckerchief with a red Chinese dragon symbolised on it around her throat, which covered most of her face, she was unmistakable to Emma. Next to her, similarly clothed, Gareth held a short piece of what looked like, lead piping. _

_They both managed to look extremely suspicious. _

"_Is this it?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Are you _**sure **_this is going to work?" Jezebel asked fidgeting anxiously. She seemed about the same age that Emma had last seen in her dream but less battered, as if some time had passed allowing her body the opportunity to heal. Gareth snorted derisively._

"_O'course it is!" _

"_What if someone sees us?"_

"_No-one 'round 'ere gives a toss, kiddo. "Jezebel frowned at him._

"_There's no need to swear all the time." She told him disapprovingly, but instead of getting defensive, Gareth only smiled fondly._

"_Let's see 'ow long you keep that conviction." She rolled her eyes._

"_Whatever you say." He just grinned unrepentantly._

"_C'mon, shift yourself." He nudged her out the way and stealthily made his way over to a massive, dilapidated old warehouse which dominated the surrounding area. Glancing around, Emma noticed that they were in a run-down, dirty area. There were broken down cars with smashed in windows and every square inch of available surface was graffitied on with highly witty tags such as: 'Bazza woz 'ere lovin' Sheryl' or 'U R A GHEI ARSE MUNKEY'._

_Reaching the large door of the ware-house, Gareth brought a dark leather packet out of his khaki coat and proceeded to unfold a strange set of tools from it. Jezebel peered over his shoulder curiously._

"_What are those?"_

"_Watch an' learn." Deftly, he placed two of the odd shaped tools into the wrought-iron padlock on the door and twisted. After a few tense moments, the lock popped open. "Result!" He grinned, while Jezebel looked on, impressed._

"_Can I learn?"_

"_All in good time kiddo, now getcha arse inside." She moved forward and placed one foot over the threshold, but then turned back._

"_We'll be safe here, right?" She asked quietly, her nervousness betrayed by eyes darting around rapidly. Gareth softened and smiled back at her._

"_We got each other, alright? We can sort out anyone who messes with _**us**_. Remember kiddo, you've got claws." A feral grin split her face, making her look wild and elfin as she disappeared into the building. Before following, Gareth stopped and scanned the abandoned street behind him for signs of movement. Finding none, he slipped in after her and shut the door. _

_Hesitantly, Emma made her way up to the imposing building and placed her hand on the door. She met with no resistance and her body passed straight through. It was a curious sensation._

_Amused, she was reminded of Kathryn's power and immediately began to hum: _

"_Anything you can do, _

_I can do better._

_I can do anything better than you…"_

_Inside the warehouse had been gutted. There was no trace of any machinery or furniture left. Empty cardboard boxes were stacked haphazardly in one corner and the traces of a fire were evident in the centre of the room. Rusted pipes protruded from the walls with brownish water stains radiated outwards from them. In the furthest corner over the room, Emma could clearly see a pair of sleeping bags set up side by side and a nest of newspapers surrounding them. Jezebel had obviously shifted time forwards from their initial arrival. She caught sight of Jezebel and Gareth sitting crossed-legged around a small fire, heads back, staring at the ceiling._

"_Can't believe no one's bothered us yet…" Jezebel's voice echoed eerily in the silence, rebounding of the corners of the room._

"_Told you. There's something to be said for a country that has a legal provision even for people in our situation." He jerked his head towards a tattered piece of paper next to Emma's head. Turning she read it:_

**LEGAL WARNING**

**Section 6 Criminal Law Act 1977  
As amended by Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994**

**TAKE NOTICE**

THATwe live in this property, it is our home and **we **intend to stay here.

THAT at all times there is at least one person in this property.

THAT any entry or attempt to enter into this property without our permission is a _criminal offence _as any one of us who is in physical possession is opposed to entry without our permission.

THAT if you attempt to enter by violence or by threatening violence _we will prosecute you. _You may receive a sentence of up to _six months imprisonment _and/or a_ fine _of up to _£5,000._

THAT if you want to get us out you will have to issue a claim in the County Court or in the High Court, or produce to us a written statement or certificate in terms of S.12A Criminal Law Act, 1977 (as inserted by Criminal Justice and Public Order Act, 1994).

THAT it is an offence under S.12A (8) Criminal Law Act 1977 (as amended) to knowingly make a false statement to obtain a written statement for the purposes of S. 12A. A person guilty of such an offence may receive a sentence of up to _six months imprisonment _and/or a _fine _of up to _£5,000._

Signed

The Occupiers

"_How did you find that again?" Jezebel asked lazily._

"_Old friend who didn't completely slate me when I left home…"_

_Jez seemed to sense his unease and changed the subject. "So what did you get today?" _

"_Some bits an' bobs. The bare necessities…" As he spoke, Gareth swung a large, one-strap bag off his shoulder and placing it on the floor; he reached inside pulling out tins of food, a patched sweatshirt, a silver cigarette lighter and a canister of lighter fluid. Pausing, as he began to tend the fire, he spoke in an uncharacteristically hesitant tone, "I got you somethin'…?" Jezebel glanced curiously at him._

"_Really?" _

"_Yeah, here." Face red with embarrassment, he shoved the bag towards her. She rummaged in it for a minute then extracted a thick wadge of magazines. Her eyebrows knitted together as she turned them over cautiously. Content until now to observe, Emma stepped closer to get a better look at the bright covers and almost gasped aloud in shock._

"_What…?" Asked Jez puzzled. _

"_They're comics?" Gareth sounded slightly bemused. "This is my favourite series. X-men is so bangin'!" He enthused. "Don't worry, I think you'll like 'em. And they'll keep you occupied until you're completely fine to come out with me. When I was your age-"He stopped as an expression stole over his face like he'd tasted something extremely bad. "Christ, I sound like an old fart..." Jez shuffled uncomfortably in her place. "Have your headaches been getting' better?" He asked solicitously and she shrugged._

"_They seem to get really bad in crowds…But sometimes…" She trailed off, staring into the middle distance at some memory. He looked up sharply, concerned and suspicious._

"_What?"_

_Unseen and unheard, Emma sank to her knees as she stared at the 'comics'. This couldn't be! Her mind felt as if was suddenly too small to absorb the knowledge that in (apparently a separate universe) the lives and tragedies of the X-men were entertainment for the general public. It seemed cruel and disgustingly voyeuristic. _

_Had every mission been portrayed? _

_Every private interaction? _

_Every kiss or love making? _

_Every death? _

_Had the deaths of her Hellions and the catastrophe of Genosha been nothing but idle amusements to these people?_

_God, she felt sick._

"_Didn't know you had a library card." Jezebel tried to not so subtly change the subject._

_He grinned, unembarrassed. "I don't. But when the toilet windows don't 'ave the barcode scanners on 'em, I don't need to."_

_She looked shocked. Seeing her expression, he snorted. "Don't get yer knickers in a twist, kiddo. I always take 'em back the same way." Her face relaxed. Then, as if remembering something, she looked down._

"_I can't read." Jez mumbled. Gareth turned slowly and looked at her. She refused to meet his gaze. He reached out and chucked her under the chin, making her look up. Their eyes met, hazel to green in silent communication and infinite understanding. _

"_Hey, none of that." His accent disappearing as if by magic. "We're a team alright? I'll show you the ropes." He grinned, erasing the sombre mood that hung over them. "Hell, I always wanted a little sister! Teaching you to read should be a piece of piss!"_

"_I always wanted to read…" Then Jezebel scowled, her embarrassment disappearing. "I'm _**not**_ little!" She pouted and Emma couldn't help but smile at the adorably petulant expression, forgetting for the moment about the comics._

"_Aww…Ickle Baby Jezebel…Does she want her bottle-wottle?" Mocked Gareth, laughing. _

"_My name is _**Jez**_, you idiot!" She protested, grinning now herself and leapt on him. He gave a girlish squeal and fell back. They began to tussle on the floor, Jez despite her thinner frame and younger years, somehow managed to seize the advantage over Gareth. She tickled his ribs mercilessly as he twisted and squirmed desperately, trying to escape her clutches. "Go on, say it!" She demanded gleefully._

"_So-rr…y J…Je-z…" He gasped, tears of laughter coursing down his cheeks. She grinned in triumph and sat down with a 'thump' on his chest, making the air rush from his lungs._

"_Ooof!" Jez cocked her head to the side, considering the sound. And then raised herself to jump again. "Jez, mercy, MERCY, kiddo!" Gareth protested, lifting his arms to fend her off. She moved, smiling._

"_So you'll teach me?"_

"_Yeah, Christ you're deadly…" He moved stiffly and grabbed a comic. " 'Ave a flick through this an' tell me if you recognise any words. It'll be easier to use familiar words as a kinda springboard to learn from." She obediently took the book and quickly became absorbed. Emma watched her expression in fascination: serious and determined, as she skimmed the pages. Emma eased down next to her and continued to observe the nuances of her facial movements. Abruptly Jez's face froze and seemed to intensely scrutinise the page. Emma's eyes darted down, but it was obscured by the position of her body. _

"_What's the matter?" Asked Gareth, echoing Emma's concern. _

"_Who…?" Jez managed, seemingly to stunned to speak, held up the book. Emma saw there in colour on the double page, herself. Blinking slightly in shock, she noticed she was wearing her old Hellfire costume of a white corset, white opera gloves and knee-high 'fuck-me-only-when-_**I­**_-tell-you-to' boots with small, almost imaginary thong. Her breasts were practically bursting outwards and the thong clearly showed that she shaved extremely close. Cringing slightly, she looked into Jez's face for her reaction and saw, to her surprise, not distaste or a raw lust…But admiration? She was non-plussed. Gareth examined the picture and a smirk crept over his face._

"_Well, well, well…So you've taken a shine to Ms. Frost have you?" Jez's countenance crumpled in confusion._

"_Well, hell yeah!" Both Emma and Gareth looked surprised, both at her affirmation and the expletive. "Look, Gareth! She's completely wiping the floor with those blokes!" She completely missed his implication. Absurdly, Emma felt both disappointed and proud. It had been a while since someone had complemented her actions (not her assets), even indirectly. He laughed._

"_You do realise those are the _**good**_ guys she's pulverising? She's one cool customer, is Ms. Frost…A mistress of manipulation." Emma glared (she hated frowning because they cause wrinkles) ineffectively at Gareth. However, Jez seemed to not hear him._

"_Have you got any more with her in? What else do you know about her? Will you read this to me?" She was practically tripping over her words in excitement. Gareth raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling._

"_So, you won't be shifted, eh? Alright, but mark me kiddo, a woman like that would eat _**you**_ alive." Jez carried on, ignoring his words._

"_So, what's her power? Something cool, right? Why's she dressed like that? Won't she get cold?" Jez came out of her reserved shell that usually was only melted by Gareth's playful interaction, as she became increasingly animated. Gareth patted the ground next to him. Emma smiled in remembrance, her outfit would've been cold if she hadn't used her powers to control her mental perception of heat and cold. _

"_C'mon, pass it here. I'll tell you all about _**your **_Ms. Frost." He said, amused. Jez eagerly complied. "But then sleep alright? It's past your bed-time…"_

_The scene changed. _

_I remember when  
I remember, I remember when I lost my mind  
There was something so pleasant about that phase  
Even your emotions had an echo  
And so much space_

_  
And when you're out there  
Without care  
Yeah I was out of touch  
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough  
I just knew too much_

_  
Does that make me crazy _

_Does that make me crazy _

_Does that make me crazy _

_Probably_

_  
And I hope that you are having the time of your life  
But think twice  
That's my only advice_

_  
Come on now  
Who do you, who do you, who do you, who do you think you are  
Ha ha ha!  
Bless your soul  
You really think you're in control  
Well,_

_  
I think you're crazy_

_I think you're crazy_

_I think you're crazy_

_Just like me_

_  
My heros had the heart, to put their lives out on the limb  
And all I remember, is thinking I want to be like them_

_  
Ever since I was little  
Ever since I was little it looked like fun  
And its no coincidence I've come  
And I can die when I'm done_

_  
But maybe I'm crazy  
Maybe you're crazy  
Maybe we're crazy  
Probably _

_Gnarls Barkley, Crazy _

**Author Notes: **

Yeah, that's an actual legally binding notice that squatters use. I got it off www dot squatter dot org dot uk. It was in the 'legal warning' section. Fascinating stuff…Some squatters just moved into a house on my road and the owner has to serve them with an eviction notice before he can get rid of them (even though it's **his** house)…Takes finders-keepers-losers-weepers to a **whole** new level…

This is part 1 of 3 closely connected chapters (it'll make sense trust me-I'm a doctor ;D)

The song Emma hums is by Dean Martin and is called 'Anything You Can Do'.

Such an Emma song…

Yes, yes another shorty...But next chapter…mwahaha…I'm pretty excited…


	9. Chapter 9: Bite to Break the Skin

**Disclaimer: **

See Chapter 1.

**Dedication:**

Don't usually do this but, thanks to everyone who has reviewed (and also continues to do so) it warms the cockles of my cold heart ;D

This chapter is for Kaia Moonchild, Harry2 and TrueDarkHero. You guys rock.

**Chapter 9: Bite to Break the Skin (Part 2)**

_Emma was staring at a sea of people. The mass heaved and swelled as the bright sunlight glinted off the plastic suits and gaudy jewellery. It was disorientating to say the least. However, one figure, face hidden beneath the depths of it's hood, caught her eye and she started forward. Dressed in a large dark battered hooded top and torn jeans, Jezebel looked quite the predator amongst the more conservatively dressed business sheep. With effortless agility, she slipped through the crowd, appearing to accidentally jostle people here and there. Then Emma recognised the calculated precision behind her actions. It was something she'd witnessed Remy do many times before._

_She was stealing._

_As she broke out of the crowd and rounded a corner, Jezebel suddenly slumped against the wall and cradled her head in her hands. Emma ran to her side and crouched uselessly beside her. She could hear her muttering._

"_Fuck me, shut up, shut up, just shut the _**fuck**_ up!" Her voice was hoarse and strained with pain. "I'm not like her, _**I'm not**_, I'm not sick, I'm not sick…Mum was sick, but I'm not…I'm normal!" She cried out in anguished tones, sweat beading on her forehead. Emma felt so helpless at sudden shift; there was nothing she could do to alleviate the situation. But she thought she understood Jez's problem; her mental shields were unable to handle the bulky mass of minds that the crowd represented. Thankfully, Gareth chose that moment to appear._

"_Jez!" She didn't look up. "God damnit, Jez! I told you to tell me if the headaches came back!" He spoke with the kind of anger that stems solely from fear and concern._

"_They never left…" She mumbled brokenly. _

"_What!"_

"_Got weaker, faded, never completely left…The white shark hunts me."_

"_What?"_

"_So many voices, can't stop talking. Do they know I can hear them?"_

"_Jez, kiddo, you're scaring me." Gareth knelt in front of her and shook her shoulders lightly, "snap out of it."_

"_Mum heard them too…She'd tell me about them when I was little… scared me…Then they took her away…Don't let them take me!" She suddenly became frantic, grasping his face and staring wildly into his eyes. "The white shark wants what is his, but if he catches us, we will be the prey!"_

"_Shh, shhh…It's alright. C'mon, let's get out of here." He moved behind her and hooked his hands underneath her armpits, hoisting her upwards and slinging her arm round his shoulder._

"_We've got to stop meeting like this," He joked, half-heartedly._

"_He comes…Why white? Such a pure colour…Not meant for scum…Only She should wear it…"whispered Jez, eyes becoming unfocused. "Anger and greed…Not good," She took a breath and sighed out, "run. He will hurt you…"_

_A razor-sharp voice cut into their conversation. "Hello Jezebel." Emma spun and saw a tall, heavy-set hairy man wearing a pristine white suit, leaning against a wall, observing Jez and Gareth. He was wearing vast amounts of cheap, chunky gold jewellery, had greasy slicked back black hair and a thin pencil moustache. He exuded an undeniable sense of menace and danger. "Well you have had me worried, luvvie, running off as you did. I've been looking for you for some time…I was afraid something had happened to you…And that would've been a shame, wouldn't it?"_

"_Fuck me wiv an iron pole…" Gareth muttered under his breath. The man was smiling, the expression eerily reminiscent of that of a shark's. Gareth really couldn't run with the weight of Jez holding him back. Despite this, he gave no sign he even thought of abandoning her. Instead, he pushed her behind him and stepped forward to meet their fate. "What do you want?" _

"_Jezebel knows what I want, don't you luvvie?" The man said, grinning evilly._

"_No more. No more. Don't need, never helps. Always give MORE and they never go away…" Jez murmured, refusing to look at the man and hiding her face within the shadowy depths of her hood._

"_Let her alone. Jez get out o' 'ere!" Shouted Gareth. The dark threat this man presented was obscene somehow in the bright light of day. Daylight should've been protection against such things and this failure added a confused sense of betrayal to the scene. Jez was incapable of moving, still lost in wherever it was she had gone and muttering inaudibly to herself._

"_You aren't going anywhere. I want my money Jezebel. You owe me." _

_A confused look passed over Gareth's face. " 'Ow do you know Jez? What money?"_

"_She didn't tell you about me? Ah Jezebel, you little minx. Not telling your boyfriend about your uncle Jon." He gave what was probably meant to be a paternal smile. It wasn't. "This little bitch owes me fifty-two thousand three hundred and sixty pounds, fifty pence. But I can let that fifty pence go seeing as she's so _**dear **_to my heart."_

"_What for?" Gareth tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his hurt and confusion at Jez's deception and his horror at the amount of money owed was obvious. _

"_Well," Jon seemed to be enjoying Gareth's ignorance, "Seems after her poor mum's incarceration, the medical bills started to pile up. There's no NHS provision for private mental health care…So out of the kindness of my heart, I offered to _**loan**_ her the money to allow her mother to stay in a proper medical institution…But then the poor thing started to have the same problems she did. And of course who else could she turn to but her _**loving **_uncle to help her. Unfortunately," Here he swept his arms wide in a show of fake regret, "even for my _**beloved**_ niece I couldn't keep supplying her with the cure for _**free**_. Heroin is _**so **_expensive nowadays…"_

"_You gave her heroin for _**headaches**_!" Gareth exclaimed, horrified. Emma could only watch in shock as the drama was acted out in front of her. _

_The large man tutted. "Why not? Heroin was and still is used by doctors as treatment for acute pain. I think you are underestimating the sheer agony of these headaches little Jezebel has."_

"_You killed her." Jez's voice was quiet but clear. "Pain, blood and tears were wept before she died. Long after she ceased to speak she still screamed her suffering…" _

"_SHUT UP!" Jon shouted loudly, spittle flying. "You crazy little bitch, you don't know what you're talking about! Either give me my money _**now**_, or I'll take you home and make you _**work**_ it off!" She whimpered, huddling into her hood, as he took several steps forward. Gareth mirrored his movements, trying to block him. _

_It didn't work. Futilely, Gareth swung a punch at his stomach, which was intercepted with a mocking laugh. "Nice try, _**boy**_." He gripped Gareth's hand in his own meaty fist and squeezed. Gareth let out an agonised yelp. He retaliated by kneeing Jon in the stomach and made him let out a startled huff of air. "You're pissing me off, you little wanker!" He kicked viciously out at Gareth's legs and he fell to the floor, groaning. Gareth tried to roll away from the hard blows raining down upon him, but it only made the man angrier and hit harder. The thud of cloth hitting flesh was dull and wet._

_Emma was watching, jaw tense and hands clenching by her sides in repressed rage. Her eyes were reduced to glacial slits at the scene in front of her. What made this infinitely worse to watch, was to know that Jezebel had already lived this and there was nothing she could do to regain her innocence or avoid the pain. She was also wondering at Jez's powers. Had she been manifesting such finely tuned power at this age and before, even managing to recognise specific minds? _

_Her thoughts were cut short by the subject of them abruptly rising to her feet, hood falling back from her face and revealing it to be flush with anger and eyes flashing with rage. _

"_Jonas Gregory Smith." She intoned. He looked up so sharply in surprise, Emma was sure he had whiplash. The fury in Jez's voice was frightening to hear, but it was something else, something indefinable, that that made him step away from Gareth as though he'd been burned. He loomed over Jez, who stared up at him, amber eyes glinting with barely leashed rage. Emma's fists clenched, anticipating the blow to fall. _

_Instead, Jon crumpled to the ground, whimpering and mewling in pain and clasping his head. Emma could see blood leaking out of most of the orifices on his face. Jezebel looked down on he writhing on the ground before her and a completely feral smile, almost devoid of humanity crept across her face. "Can you feel it?" She whispered as if imparting a dark secret. "Know pain as _**I**_ have known it." He let out a choked, strangled sound, his eyes rolling wildly back in his head and then went limp. His suit was spattered with red down the front from his nose, eyelids, mouth and ears. There was a yellow stain spreading from his crotch. Apparently he'd lost, or been forced to lose, control of his bladder and bowels. _

_The smell was disgusting._

_Jezebel blinked. The frightening fury in her eyes flickered and then died. "Not again…It wasn't me…" She whispered in horror, staring at the bloodied man lying at her feet. Emma stared at the body too, remembering the same horror she'd felt when she'd manipulated a gang who'd kidnapped her into killing each other. That she hadn't meant for it to happen made no difference. _

_That had been the day she'd realised the world wasn't as black and white as she'd thought._

_And despite what she knew some of the X-men would say, she couldn't find it in her to condemn Jezebel for protecting herself and her surrogate brother by using her powers. She understood the fear of watching a loved one get hurt and would not wish it upon anyone. Seeing Troy, the man who'd selflessly taken her in when she ran away from her family, killed by the gang he'd gotten mixed up in, right before her eyes was enough to haunt her dreams for many nights. And then when the same had happened to her Hellions…She was just glad Jezebel had been saved that at least…_

"_Gareth?" Jez called shakily, moving gingerly around the fallen man and racing over to him. _

_He groaned. "Ah, _**fuck**_, it hurts…" He sat up, cradling his stomach, "Jez? You alright?" She nodded. She seemed much better, eyes clear and alert and her body taut with readiness. _

"_He isn't though." She said, jerking her head in Jonas' direction._

"_Well, give me wings and call me a fucking fairy…What happened?" He asked, amazed._

_She ignored his question. "We've got to get out of here, he's never alone for very long. He'll have some friends looking for him soon. I'm surprised he didn't have any now for that matter." Thankfully, he went along with it. _

"_Let's go to that shop I was telling you about." She nodded and they set off down the alley in the opposite direction to the bustling street. Obviously they didn't want anyone remembering them coming out there. They hurried off into the warren of back streets that was London, Gareth seemingly none the worse for his experience. Emma followed at a more sedate pace behind them._

_Their silence was broken by Gareth after they'd got a reasonable distance from the alley. "Jezebel…What happened back there? What was wrong with you? Who exactly was that fuckin' wank-shite?" He asked, cutting straight to the chase._

_Jez sucked in a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair, managing to settle all of the errant hairs that were sticking up, flat. It was a nervous and endearing gesture that Emma couldn't help be charmed by. "Gareth…You wouldn't abandon me, right? You'll stay with me no matter what, right?" Dodging out of the way of a set of dustbins, he turned his head looking over his shoulder and stared seriously into her anxious gaze._

"_Kiddo, despite all this bollocks going down that I _**really **_don't understand, I can safely say that _**nothing**_ will ever make me do that to you. You're my 'little sister', I could never abandon you." _

_She gave a watery smile. "I love you too." His grave expression vanished and he smiled back. "I suppose I should start at the beginning…"She exhaled and then sucked in a fortifying breath. "My mum had…problems…When I was a few years old she'd already started shouting at people who weren't there. She had delusions, believed people said things that they didn't…Tried to block them out with alcohol and anything else she could get hold off…She lost everyone but me. I was only a child…She used to say I gave her peace because I 'didn't talk loud'. She didn't send me to school, I just ran riot around the neighbourhood," She shook her head. "suffice to say, the neighbours eventually reported her to the social workers…and they had her put away faster than you can say 'psycho'…She ended up in some dingy 'correctional facility' for women and they didn't even bother to try and help her. She was doped up to the gills most of the time and I never was allowed to visit her. My social worker sent me to live with my _**dear**_ aunt and _**uncle**_…" Here she paused and her hazel eyes narrowed dangerously at an old anger._

"_Let me guess, your uncle was a little too _**friendly**_?" Asked Gareth bitterly, Jez's mouth fell open and she stared at him wide-eyed. There was a long, awkward silence. Gareth sighed and shut his eyes, massaging the closed lids with both fingers and thumbs. Emma watched Jez eye him apprehensively. After a moment he spoke. "…Sorry. Something like that happened to me…and my own family wouldn't believe me. Told me I was a 'dirty minded faggot' who 'projects his own perverted desires onto others'. They disowned me after I kicked the fucker in the balls." A savage smile crossed his face. "But it was worth it." _

_Looking pained, she replied. "…No …Sometimes I imagined he was saying some weird and pervy things…But I was off my head half the time because of the headaches and then from heroin…I was never certain if what I was hearing or seeing was real…I hated living with them. My aunt was my mum's sister and she was completely under Jon's thumb. He ruled the house, her by a heroin supply because she'd do anything for the next fix, and me by pain or threatening to pull the money on mum's private healthcare…I regretted asking for it sometimes even though mum needed somewhere safe…I couldn't do anything right and paid for it. My aunt never protected me. For a long time I refused to break, but then I learned I could bend without breaking…" Jez's face was distant as she recalled the memories. "So I began to help out with his 'business'. It protected me only a little better, but it _**was**_ something…I became a runner because I didn't go to school anyway and I had to find some way to pay him off that didn't involve whoring me out…So I'd go between gangs and dealers to advertise his drugs and set up meetings between them and Jon. He had his own people to back him up, so he was never worried about anything going wrong…He ruled the area we lived in. Everybody was afraid of him, even the police. That's how he got away with it." Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. _

"_What did he get away with?"_

_Jez's voice became remote and distant. "He used to hit me, burn me…I didn't care after awhile, it was only pain. But he used to play twisted 'games' with my aunt. He hooked her on heroin y'know? Then used to hide his stash from her. Tried to see how far she'd go for the next fix." She gave what sounded like a choked laugh. "Would you think I'm a horrible person if I said I didn't really care what happened to her? I hated her for being weak. I hated her for not caring about me. I hated her for not stopping him. I hated her for so long…But now I can't care anymore…" Her voice was full of pain and self-loathing. Emma felt something contract painfully in her chest. Her arm reached out towards Jezebel, then fell back, unseen._

"_No," Gareth said quietly, accent absent and speaking with an eloquence Emma wouldn't have associated with him, "you're only human. You didn't really know her and were going through a traumatic time. She did nothing to engender your affection and that's not your fault. You were a child, you should've been the one protected. It was probably part of a defence mechanism in your mind and you can't be held responsible for it. You were focusing on keeping yourself alive. You should know by now that you can't save everyone." Jez's eyes watered, but no tears fell. Swallowing hard, she continued._

"_She never gave me much affection. I was barely there to her; she only saw the next injection, the next high. But even that was better than Jon's abuse. One day he was bored and decided to test her self-control. Like a dog, y'know? Place a bowl of food in front of a starving dog and see how long it can go without eating it? He'd starved her of heroin for about a day and a half. She was crying and pleading with him and he was just laughing. The shakes and sweat had begun and she'd been vomiting most of the afternoon. He used to make me watch: "It's a life lesson for you, girl" he'd say. He left her alone in the room with the heroin and told her not to touch it or he'd break every bone in her fingers…" She stopped and didn't speak again._

"_And she took it?" He prodded lightly._

_Her face was blank as she replied and her tone completely devoid of expression. "All of it. I'll never forget the look on her face…For a minute her expression was one of complete ecstasy, like she had discovered another, better, world. Then it contorted in shock as her body reacted. Her heart went into overdrive while her skin and lips went blue as she stopped breathing. No sound escaped her lips, but I still imagined I could hear her crying out. She was frightened and yet at the same time relieved. She was tired of living… Jon was laughing, but I could feel he was scared. I tried to get to the phone but he stopped me. She was perfectly still and if you'd just glanced in on her, you'd swear she was just sleeping. Jon said it was "the stupid bint's own fault" and that she should've known better, but I noticed he stopped forcing the heroin on me as 'treatment' afterwards. It meant I had a harder time controlling my problems, but luckily he hadn't been giving it to me for long, so my body hadn't adapted and become addicted to it yet." Gareth gave a quiet sigh of relief._

"_Thank fuck."_

_It was a sentiment that Emma silently echoed._

"_The next week he took me with him to a particularly dodgy set-up. I think he was trying to prove her death hadn't affected him. I felt something wrong about the whole thing, but I didn't trust my senses and I couldn't my finger on exactly _**what **_it was…The deal was raided by the police. I panicked completely. I ran to a corner of the warehouse and curled up. I remember thinking; 'please don't see me please don't see me' over and over in my head. I was so messed up, I think I thought I was going to be put in prison with them…I heard footsteps coming towards me and I curled up even tighter, hoping they'd go away. Then they paused, about a stone's throw away. My heart was in my mouth, I was certain I was about to be grabbed…Then the strangest thing happened: the footsteps just carried on. They must've had a really good view of me, but they just left me there. I was too scared to move for hours, but eventually I got the courage. I never knew if the footsteps were another delusion or a random act of kindness…" She trailed off._

_Gareth glanced over at her as he turned down another side street. "What happened then?" He asked gently._

"_The headaches began to morph into voices more and more often. I'd hear them all the time, dozens of monologues that I just couldn't stop. When I got upset or angry the voices seemed to get even worse…I think -I _**know**_- I'm schizophrenic like my mum…I've been experiencing all the same problems she had…but I didn't say anything back then, I was too afraid they'd send me to an institute like her…and he wouldn't have paid for a good one like mum's…I ran away from Jon while he was still tied up in prison and went back to find my mum. She was on heavy-dose medication the private hospital provided her with...off her head most of the time. She refused to see me. She'd stopped eating, talking, living. She was self-medicating; said she wanted the voices to "shut the fuck up"…I've got to say, I understand the feeling…Eventually she overdosed. To the very last day, she refused to see me…it hurt. I think she didn't want to lose her resolve. If she'd seen me, she might have been guilted into staying alive and she was so tired of living… I only found out the full story after her death. The doctors didn't believe I was her daughter because I had no proof of identity…I was terrified of being traced by the police or any of Jon's mates (it didn't help the fact any ID I ever did have was locked up tight by him as well) at the time and she didn't actually want to see me even if I did have anything."_

"_Harsh."_

_She snorted in grim amusement. "That's one way of putting it. I didn't know what to do. I'd never been to school, had no proof of ID and had a violent gang leader with the police in his pocket, hot on my heels who'd be very pissed off I got away. So I ran to London. It's easy to lose yourself here. I was begging and living at Salvation Army most of the time. But I couldn't go there too often in case _**he**_ had people looking out for me…Then I decided to walk through a dodgy area one night and met you." For the first time since she'd begun her story, Jez smiled. "I feel good now."_

"_I'm glad. I swear, there's never a dull moment with you around, kiddo. Don't worry, it just means we'll have to be more careful…" He paused and cleared his throat a little self-consciously. "I won't ever leave you." It was a promise. _

_There was a long, but comfortable silence as they both recovered from the intensity of their talk._

_Finally Gareth broke the silence. "We're here." Emma had become so absorbed in following in listening to their conversation, she had not been paying any attention to her surroundings. _

"_Soho?" _

"_Yeah, we need to get right into the heart of it. But don't get overexcited eh? These sex shops…as interesting as their contents are…aren't what we're here for…"_

_Jez's pale skin turned a light shade of pink for a moment. "Lead the way." He strode forward, adopting a rolling swagger and turned the collar up on his jacket. They walked down the run-down street, Jez staring in fascination at the flashing neon signs advertising all sorts of strange things. Large double-decker buses roared past, exhausts spraying the air with thick fumes, obscuring their vision and irritating their lungs, making them cough violently._

"_How come you never told me any of that before?" Shouted Gareth over the rush of traffic. _

"_I didn't know you well enough, I was ashamed too. And then there was never the 'right' moment. I couldn't exactly say: "Oh by the way, my mum was committed, I'm probably crazy too and I've had a completely disturbed life what with my uncle killing my aunt and being abused regularly and being forced to run drugs.". "She tried to smile, but Emma could see the hidden strain behind her hazel eyes._

"_Oooh…'committed' that's a big word for an illiterate girl like you… " He grinned cockily, trying to regain their bantering air._

"_Yeah? Well, unlike some, _**I **_spend most of my spare time at libraries reading..."_

"_The comic section doesn't count. Especially if it's got _**Ms. Frost**_ in…"_

"_Shut up idiot!" Jez snapped and Emma saw her pale cheeks flush a light shade of pink again._

"_Now, now, flattery will get you nowhere. I thought you were over that crush ages ago?" He remarked thoughtfully._

"_There _**was**_ no crush! Shut up!" She denied, agitated._

"_Oh right, so _**that**_ explains why for the past year and a half you've avidly devoured anything she turns up in and especially why you just _**can't**_ shut up about anything she does…remember when she was in a coma? I thought you were going to hunt down the comic writers and kill them! AND I suppose it definitely explains why you sleep with that first picture of her you saw in your sleeping bag! "Emma's eyebrow raised and she smirked. _

_Well, well, well…_

"_Stop lying, you bloody liar! Why can't you just SHUT UP!" Jez hissed furiously at him, actually swearing in her embarrassment. _

_Gareth got an evil glint in his eye and began singing in a loud off-key camp voice:_

"I_t's just, a little crush (crush) _

_Not like I faint everytime we touuuuch  
It's just some little thing (crush)  
Not like everything I dooooooo depends on yoooooooou…" The words were accompanyed by several exaggerated hip thrusts and pelvic grinds. Jez punched his arm hard and he darted away, still singing at the tops of his lungs:_

_"Sha la la la, sha la la la  
Sha la la la, sha la la laaaaaaaa…" _

_They raced ahead, chasing and laughing. Emma's mouth quirked upwards fondly as she watched them. They really were…amazing, resilient…words simply failed her. To have lived through that and been able to come out of it, not unscathed, but unbowed at such a young age, took tremendous courage and strength. Jezebel was truly astounding. It gave Emma hope that she would recover now. Because really, what were her injuries now, when compared to what she'd already been through? _

_As she continued to watch their mock scuffling and fighting, Emma was impressed with the way Gareth had managed to completely change Jezebel's mood in such a short space of time. She seemed so happy and carefree now, darting agilely around and laughing at something he said. Iit was difficult to believe the darkness that had been revealed in the previous conversation. However Emma sensed, that somehow, today was doing a lot to heal old wounds and it was largely due to Gareth. She suspected that facing down Jon like that had also helped to banish some demons._

_Eventually, they both calmed down. Or rather, Jez had Gareth in a headlock and was knuckling his head with her fist while promsing to flay him within an inch of his life unless he "ceased and desisted" all embarrassing displays. The shops and houses around them were gradually changing from industrialised conformative to more individual and quirky. The styles were also becoming more oriental and there market stalls selling all sorts of produce out of the local's houses. A small, white-bearded Chinese man tried to sell them a bag of lychee but they politely declined, with Jez stopping one of the children trying to sift through the contents of their pockets._

"_So...You're gay?" Jez asked, awkwardly. Gareth glanced over at her curious, yet uncomfortable expression. _

"_Yeah, I'm queer as a one pound note." _

_She grinned. "Well, that certainly explains a lot."_

"_Oh yeah?"_

"_Yeah, like why I caught you drooling over NorthStar in that comic last week-"Emma smirked. "Northstar" AKA Jean-Paul Beaubier, a French-Canadian mutant, was one of the few openly gay X-men. Emma knew there were more, but they stubbornly remained hidden, refusing to 'out' themselves from fear of rejection by their team-mates. She snorted. The hypocrasy within the X-men towards homosexuals was something she tried to correct and was meeting with slow progress._

"_I was NOT drooling. I was _**appreciating**_."_

"_-Why you hit like a little baby-"_

"_Just 'cause I'm not a fuckin' butch like you!"_

"_-Why whenever we get the chance to wash, you _**always**_ go first AND use _**all**_ the hot water-"_

"_I like to be clean! You don't need it anyway, you scruffy little bint!"_

"_And as if that weren't enough, you spend hours doing your _**hair**_-"_

"_I like to look nice!"_

"_-When we always are _**filthy**_ again an hour later…"_

"_That's _**your**_ fault! You attract the dirt!"_

_Jezebel laughed aloud, a clear, joyful and melodic sound. "I'm joking, you big girl's blouse. It's _**doesn't**_ explain your accent though…" _

_Gareth gave an embarrassed grin. "A little somethin' I cultivated."_

"_Oh yeah?" Jez looked sceptical._

_"Well, partly it was to fit in on the street…Talking like a toff would've got me more bruises than my body could handle…" _

_Emma sensed there was more to the explanation. This was confirmed by Jez. "And…?"_

_Gareth looked slightly red now. "Ah, well…Some blokes found it very sexy…" _

_Jez hooted with laughter. "What did you say?" She asked then affected a heavy cockney accent. "Alrigh' darlin'…Fancy a bit of a slap an' tickle do yer?" _

_Gareth hmphed loudly, going red while pouting and muttered under his breath. "At least _**I'm**_ not in the closet…"_

_Her eyes narrowed. "What's that?" She asked dangerously._

"_I used to live in Dorset?" He said innocently. Emma snorted as Jez raised an eyebrow disbelievingly._

"_Really…" She drawled._

"_Ah! This is it." He said happily, switching her focus away from him._

_They had stopped in front of a small, ramshackle shop. It had tattered, once-bright, faded banners outside. The windows were dusty with cobwebs clustering up on the inside of the window and there appeared to be no one inside._

"_It's closed." Jez said, hitting the door frame in frustration. Gareth ignored her and pulled the handle. The door swung open and the jingle of a bell heralded their entrance. They stepped into the semi-darkness of the shop, their eyes needing a moment to adjust to the gloom. "How did you-?"_

"歡迎_" __A scratchy, hoarse voice called out. Jez started, while Gareth put a calming hand on her arm._

"_Relax kiddo." Then, addressing the voice, "Greetings Master Lee."_

"_Gareth, I have not had the pleasure of your company for quite some time." A hunched, wizened old man with a neatly braided white beard and wearing a dark purple robe, glided into view. Gareth bowed at the waist and nudged Jez in the side._

"_What?" She asked, confused._

"_Show some respect!" He hissed. Master Lee chuckled, his face crinkling in a friendly manner._

"_Ah Gareth, there is no need for friend to bow to friend. Come, sit. I expect you have something you need assistence with…" Jez's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but Gareth showed no such signs. Master Lee ushered them into a side room and Emma stared around in interest. Lining every wall were hundreds upon hundreds of potion bottles. They were every shape and colour imaginable and each held all kinds of liquids and powders. There was a large wooden table central to room with an intricately carved cutting board on it, as well as a pestle and morter. A razor-sharp ornamental blade with a jewelery encrusted handle, lay casually on the corner of it. _

_The room was illuminated by an oil-lamp hanging from the ceiling and there were no windows. Depsite this, the room was oddly cool and there seemed to be a current of air filtering through. _

_After they had seated themselves, Gareth tried to begin, but Master Lee was having none of it. "Hush now. You both look as though you need some tea."_

"_I don't like tea." Jez's nose wrinkled in distaste and Gareth scolded her._

"_You'll bloody well-ah sorry-ahem, what kind of englishwoman are you, anyway? _**Be polite**_."_

"_I think you'll like this tea Jezebel." Said Master Lee softly. Jez froze._

"_How did you-?" She asked suspisciously._

"_I have my ways." He said laughing. "I'll have my apprentice make it. Darren?"_

"_Yes Master?" A distant, youthful voice answered._

"_A pot of Chamomile tea and three cups, please." _

"_Certainly Master." There was the sound of footsteps shuffling away._

"_New apprentice?" Asked Gareth, interested and Master Lee nodded._

"_Now, how may I be of service to you Jezebel?"_

"_How do you know _**I**_ need help?"Emma watched in amusement as Gareth's head disspeared into his hands as he groaned at Jez's blunt question._

_Master Lee seemed unoffended and in Emma's opinion, mildly amused. "I rarely see Gareth. When I am fortunate enough to do so, it is never for his own benefit. You are with him and he seems to care deeply for you. My conclusion was hardly a stretch. Now, how may I help you?"_

_Jez took a deep a breath and glanced at Gareth for reassurence and received a nod in return. She began to explain her mother's history of mental illness and the symptoms, including her eventual death. She then moved on to her own growing concerns and problems, revealing she was afraid she was schizophrenic like her mother because of them. Emma watched him carefully as he listened and noticed he seemed unsurprised by the account._

_"And why do you think you have schizophrenia?" Jez stared at him._

_"Master Lee, I mean no disrespect, but were you actually _**listening**_ to anything I just said?" It seemed Gareth had decided to ignore Jez's behaviour at this point and was busily staring around the room. _

_Hearing voices isn't normal! It's a sign of madness! I mean, can_ **you** _think of any other reason why I'm hearing them!"_

_"I'm rather surprised _**you**_ can't, considering your reading choices." _

_Jez's brow furrowed in confusion, the wind knocked from her sails. "Huh?"_

_Changing the subject smoothly."And these voices…What do they say?" He asked calmly, as it were a normal, everyday query._

_Jez's eyes became distant. "Depends on the voice …"_

"_I see."Just then, a side door opened and a young man stepped through it holding a tray with a tea pot sitting on it, steam wafting upwards from it._

"_Your tea, Master." The man said, bowing after placing the cups before everyone and the pot in the centre of the table. _

"_Thank you Darren. This is Jezebel and Gareth. Gareth, Jezebel, this is my apprentice, Darren."Master Lee introduced them, while picking up the cup set in front of him and inhaling deeply._

"_Hello." Jez said, examining him with a wary eye, while Gareth on the other hand, had a very different reaction._

"_Ah, uh-Hello…er…I'm Gareth. Or Gar if you prefer…Ahah…" He stuttered and stammered,completely losing his cool and causing Jez to stare at him in amazement. Master Lee and Emma smirked at his reaction._

"_Greetings. It's a pleasure to meet you both." He said, smiling charmingly at Gareth, who looked as if he'd been hit between the eyes with a hammer. An attractive, eurasian hammer with dark hair worn in a long intricate braid down it's back and a gleamingly white smile._

"_Gareth, shut your gob before you catch something." Grinned Jez, cocking an eyebrow at him cheekily. She picked up her cup and sniffed cautiously._

"_Shut up…" He muttered, going a dull red and cleared his throat. "Ahem, well Master Lee, I thought that you'd have something to help Jez…Is there a potion or tonic…?"_

_Master Lee was silent for a long moment._

"_Jezebel, give me your dominant hand." _

"_What?"_

"_Palmistry is an ancient art, passed down from generation to generation. I'd like to read your palm before I decide how to help you." Looking confused, Jez nevertheless stretched forward and placed her left palm face up in his knarled old birds-feet hands. He scrutinized it, silently and tapped one finger against his lips. Then he released it. "You have travelled a long, hard road." Jez smiled mirthlessly. "The obsticles you have overcome, would've broken many far older and wiser than you." _

"_Thanks…" She drawled._

"_But your journey is far from done. You still have many hardships yet to face and you must remain strong and unbowed, like a young sapling in the harsh north winds…"_

"_Great. I can't _**wait**_."The sarcasm in her voice was so thick it could've been cut with the ornamental blade on the table._

"_Jez." Warned Gareth as she rolled her eyes._

"_Sorry. I just don't believe in this kind of thing." Master Lee nodded understandingly. "Also, all that was pretty vague, anyone who listened to my story could've made the same assumptions. Besides it's not really going to be helpful is it?"_

"_Jez…"_

"_Well, I will give you a piece of practical advice then. Change your appearences."_

"_Why-Oh." A flicker of fear crossed Jez's face._

"_You have made powerful enemies. The White Shark does not take being thwarted easily. But I think two _**boys**_ should be able to evade capture rather easily, don't you think? Especially if their hair is changed."_

"_Ahem. I am a _**girl**_. Did the name not give you a clue?"Emma saw an annoyed look cross Jezebel's face and guessed the mistake had been made before._

"_Jez!" Reproached Gareth._

"_I was aware. But will those who are hunting you will be looking for a girl and a boy with long hair, correct? So I surmise that two boys with short hair will be able to pass unoticed." Gareth and Jez glanced at each other, seeming to communicate everything within just a look. Emma felt a flash of wistfulness. She would give anything to have a connection like that with someone… _

"_You'll need your hair cut this short." Gareth demonstrated, placing his hand on the lowest part of the back of her head, "Some parts'll have to be shaved into a more boyish style…"_

"_I'm going to need to bind these, aren't I?" She asked wearily, indicating the practically unoticable bumps underneath her baggy hoody. _

_Gareth grinned. "Looks like, kiddo."_

"_You don't actually need to cut your hair Gareth, I doubt Jon got a good look at you." Jez pointed out after a moment. "You could just dye it."_

_He looked taken by the idea and this was further cemented by Darren's innocent encouragement. "That's a great idea! I've got some dye upstairs, you can use it Gareth."_

"_Th-thank you." Gareth gave an idiotic smile and Jez snorted._

"_What colour is it?" She asked sceptically._

"_Blue. I think the exact tint is called 'Electric Blue'." Gareth paled slightly and Emma noticed Jez laughing silently into her hand. _

_He tried to back-pedal. "Oh no, I couldn't take it from you, I don't want to put you out. I'll just stea-ah _**buy**_ some later."_

"_Oh, it's no trouble. Actually blue is my favourite colour, it'll be nice to see a friend using it." Darren reassured brightly and Jez's face went purple with the effort required to keep her laughter quiet. Gareth looked like a deer caught in headlights._

"_Yeah Gareth, _**be polite**_." Jez gasped delightedly, mimicking his words from before._

"_Ah…well…I…" He sighed, giving in at Darren's hopeful face, "thanks. I'd be most grateful."Darren beamed happily and Emma saw Jez flick her wrist at Gareth as if cracking a whip and mouthed: 'Whipped'. Gareth sent a death glare at Jez that could've stripped paint._

"_Darren, could you bring me the Cherry Plum, White Chestnut as well as Sweet, Rock Rose and Crab Apple, please." Master Lee's words were a gentle command that cut into their banter and refocused them on the matter at hand. After a brief bow, Darren started moving around the room collecting strange objects and flowers from various containers and boxes. Emma noticed with some amusement that while Jez was focused upon Master Lee's movments, Gareth could not tear his eyes away from Darren's trim body which was mostly hidden by a red and black robe._

"_What are _**dried flowers **_going to do to help me?" Asked Jez disbelievingly._

_Lee smiled. "Each flower has a property that will aid you in supressing those voices. The Cherry Plum removes fear of the mind giving way, White Chestnut relieves the user of unwanted thoughts, Sweet Chestnut deadens extreme mental anguish, Rock Rose is to prevent terror and Crab Apple heals self-hatred." Jez's eyes flicked sharply to his face, searching for any hidden sting behind his pleasant mask._

"_But in the unlikely event it doesn't work try using Hyocaimus 200c. It's a homeopathic remedy for hearing voices, or desires to go about naked."Chipped in Darren helpfully. Gareth snorted loudly and covered his mouth with his hand, smirking at Jez's suddenly clenched jaw._

"_Thank you. I'll be sure to remember that." She ground out. _

"_Jezebel," She glanced back at Master Lee. Emma saw that he had assembled all the plants; varying shapes and sizes of white blossoms, some with hints of pink pigment, round brown nuts and bright yellow flowers on the table top. "Would you prefer liquid or pill form?"_

"_Pill."_

"_Very well. It will take me about a week to mix and propotion all the ingredients correctly and to form the pills. You'll need to take them twice daily."_

"_How long will she have to take them for?" Asked Gareth worriedly._

_Master Lee turned and stared into Jez's eyes. "For as long as she does not wish to listen. Remember; __difference should never be reviled for difference's sake. To do so is to become both weak _**and**_ foolish like those you despise__." He seemed to be trying to convey something beyond his words and that's when it hit Emma. This man knew exactly what was happening! It was in the little clues he'd dropped throughout the meeting and in the way he was looking at her now. He seemed to be precognitive or perhaps something else…Emma started to wonder exactly _**how**_ many people in this universe actually had mutant powers but hid, silent and afraid. _

_How different was this world to hers?_

"_That'll be for the rest of my life then." Jez remarked laconically. _

_He smiled mysteriously. "Perhaps. If that is the case, you will always be welcome to come here for refills. It will be free of charge as befits a friend of Gareth's." Gareth started to make protesting noises about charity but was told to shut up; loudly by Jez and kindly by Lee. He shrugged helplessly._

"_Alright. I know when I'm beaten."_

_They stood up to leave._

"_However, if you should change your mind…Neglecting to take them for one day and night should be enough to shake off their effects. Try to remain calm as well, extreme anger and other violent emotions cause the heart to work faster and burns up your metabolism which will stores the pills. Without them running through your bloodstream…Well. I think you know the consequences." He sounded grave and serious, then his mood lightened. "Come collect them in a week. Bring Gareth with you, he can show Darren around London for me, I can't get around like I used to anymore." Gareth turned an interesting shade of red again and made dangerous choking sounds. Jez grinned and whacked him on the back._

"_It's not too much of an imposition, is it?"Darren interjected, hopefully._

"_NO! I-I mean, of course it isn't. Ah, well-" Emma caught sight of Jez rolling her eyes as she dragged a now stammering Gareth out of the shop and smirked._

"_It's just, a little crush (crush)…" Emma heard her mutter mockingly._

_The scene changed…_

____

So let me take this medicine  
To quench my love  
For violent things  
My swan song will  
Be like a bullet  
Laced in anger  
As the razor cuts a soft spot  
On your heel.

(Each breath) is getting slower  
(This war) is getting harder  
To fight by myself  
(Sick waves) of bitter fashion,  
(Ripped down) the shields that I have  
Tears rain from above.

Do you see?  
The life I lead?

So follow me  
Into the sun,  
And I will bleed,  
The poisons dry…

These bayonet scars never cease  
To blind the light shed from the beast  
And all we do is hate.

(Eyes shot) from constant visions.  
(Angels) are rendered useless  
Good has lost it's heart.

Do you see?  
The life I lead?

So follow me,  
Into the sun,  
And I will bleed,  
The poisons dry…

For you (For you)  
For you (For you)

For you  
Senses Fail, Bite to Break the Skin (The Legion of Dead remix)

**Author Notes:**

(collapses in an exhausted heap)…There. Hopefully that makes up (It bloody well better!) for the two short chapters and the embarrassingly **long** delay (the saga of TRYING to access this damn site **-growl**- not even funny so please don't hate me)

The homeopathic remedies are real and are used in treating schizophrenia (but they're not medically sanctioned, so do NOT use without talking to your doctor). As far as I could find, they are only available in liquid form and can be used just by themselves.

www dot naturallythinking dot com / product and www dot thehealingsun dot com are the sites I used for research…

Chamomile tea is used to calm the body and mind ease insomnia, lower stress, alleviate symptoms of PMS and counter allergies (in case you were wondering)

歡迎_。__- _Simply means 'greetings' in traditional Chinese.

Some people have expressed interest in the songs…You can probably find them here: www dot kohit dot net or www dot mp3000 dot net - not sure but worth a look.

BTW - £52,360.50 is equivalent to US$99,547.80 (whistle…that's a lot of cash…)

Review! (c'mon after **all **that?)

I'm going to go sleep now…(snore)…


	10. Chapter 10: Be Like That

**Disclaimers: **

See Chapter 1.

**Chapter 10: Be Like That (part 3)**

_Emma was on a roof-top. It was night and she had a bird's eye view of the surrounding area. The stars were just about visible in the orange sky, polluted by the millions of street lamps throughout the city. She scanned the roof, searching for the now-familiar body of Jezebel. _

_And there she was._

_Body stretched languorously out like some resting cat, Jez was lying with her arms crossed under her head, staring straight up at the sky. Her hair was now with its current style and to all intents and purposes she appeared only to be a slightly feminine man. However, the unmistakable signs of neglect and hardship were already showing in the hollowness of her cheeks and the leanness of her limbs._

_There was the sound of cursing and scuffling and suddenly Gareth's much older face, now with bright blue hair, popped up over the edge._

"_Alright kiddo?"_

_She sat up excitedly, eyes glinting in eagerness. "Did you get it?" Her voice was throaty and slightly lower than Emma had ever heard before, she really had grown up. _

_Gareth laughed. " 'Course I did. Wouldn't want to face your wrath now, would I?" He threw a brown paper bag at Jezebel's head, which she caught with ease and cradled carefully to her chest._

"_You're the best." She said, grinning like a happy child._

"_That's what Darren tells me…" Gareth said nonchalantly, buffing his nails on the outside of his coat and smirking. _

"_My, and so _**humble**_ too." She teased, then sobered slightly. "Can't believe it's your fourth anniversary…" Gareth's face took on a dreamy cast._

"_Yeah…" He sighed happily. "Best years of my life…" Jez's face remained outwardly happy, but Emma sensed a tinge of sadness behind it._

"_You've turned into a big softy." She accused gently. Gareth laughed._

"_Does it show that badly?" He paused, then cocked his head at her. "Come with us tonight." _

_She shook her head. "It's your anniversary Gar. I can't tag along on your coat tails like the other times."_

"_You're part of the family, as much as Darren is. And you might meet some sexy girl in need of a good shag…"He wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously. Emma went rigid and her eyes flicked quickly to Jez._

"_Lovely." Jez looked completely disinterested. "I think I'd rather stay up here and read this, if it's all the same to you." She declared, waving the bag. Emma released the breath she hadn't even been aware of holding._

_Gareth's look became knowing and a leer crept across his face. "I see…let me guess…That wouldn't by any chance have _**Emma Frost** _in, would it?" _

_Jez blushed. "Stop talking out your arse, Gar. Why do you _**keep**_ bringing her up!"_

"**That's**_ why you sent me down the Sally Army today! You didn't want supplies; you just wanted me to stop in the comic place!"_

"_Shut up." She growled. Literally. Emma stared in amazement at the purely animal noise that had erupted from Jezebel's throat. Gareth however, seemed unfazed._

"_You really pissed off those comic shop workers didn't you? They haven't let you in there for months…You must've missed loads, what's the point in trying to catch up now?"_

"_Shut. Up."_

"_I will. When you tell me _**why**_ you punched the owner."_

_Jez's pale skin turned pink. "He…mumph…" She muttered. Emma moved closer, the better to hear._

"_What's that? I-can't-hear-you…" Asked Gareth in an irritating sing-song voice and cupping a hand around one ear in an exaggerated fashion._

"_He was being sexist, disgustingly pervy and a fuckin' twat-faced cock-" Jez exploded, raking fingers through her short hair, motions jerky with anger. She began to pace up and down. Emma noticed that Gareth looked as surprised as she felt at the expletives._

"_Whoooa there Nelly…Hold your horses. He figured out you were a girl?" _

"_No."_

"_He dissed you."_

"_No…"_

"_He grabbed your arse?"_

"_NO."_

"_What then?" Gareth sounded truly confused._

_Jez deflated, losing her anger and scuffed a worn boot on the rusty corrugated iron of the roof, refusing to meet he gaze. "He was saying things about someone…" She mumbled childishly._

_"Right. And was this person by any chance, a _**comic** _character?" He asked, shaking his head in disbelief. Emma was in a similar state. She couldn't believe Jez had punched someone over, what was to her, a fictional comic character. Emma couldn't help but feel jealous at whoever it was for having Jez so willing to defend them._

_"…Yes."_

_"For Christ'ssake, Jezebel!" Jez flinched. "Was it Emma _**bloody** _Frost?" He snapped accusingly. Emma's eyes went wide in shock._

_Jez refused to meet his gaze. _

_"Was it!"_

_"…Yes..." Emma let out a sharp exhalation and blinked slowly. Her heart seemed to be beating unsteadily in her chest. _

_'Why me?' _

_"I'm not going to even ask _**what**_ he said. And then you got caught, didn't you? That was stupid. They could've called the police…You're lucky they were embarrassed being beaten by a 'girly man'…I hope it was fuckin' worth it! You could've drawn exactly the wrong sort of attention to us Jez! What if the police had been brought in and had recognised you! Your 'beloved' uncle would be on us like dogs on a bitch in heat…" He sighed and wearily scrubbed a hand over his face. "Jezebel, love, she's _**not real**. _She will never_ **be ****real**_. Even if she was, what do you think the chances would be of her even _**looking**_ at you twice? Let it go. You're obsessed and not in a good way. No matter how much you may want it…Some things can _**never **_be." Jez flinched at each word as if they were slicing into deeply her heart._

"_I'm going back inside. If you change your mind, I'm not going to pick Darren up for another hour or so." He started to slide back in the warehouse then stopped. "Find someone else kiddo. Someone who can actually _**hold**_ you back. This pining away for a fantasy does no one any good." He shook his head again and then disappeared._

"…_I'm NOT obsessed." Jez whispered to empty air and sighed deeply. She crumpled to her knees and pinched the bridge of her nose. She pulled the paper bag to her and withdrew the comic book, staring at it morosely. "What's wrong with me?" She asked wearily to no one. Emma moved closer, feeling her stomach clench in sympathy for the confused looking girl-woman and sat down close to her. She couldn't do anything but offer her silent support._

"_I am **not** normal…But then, I already _**knew**_ that…" She snorted, apparently disgusted with herself and resignedly opened the comic, diligently poring over every page, while her face gradually relaxed. _

_Emma became fascinated by the minute changes and nuances of expression that crossed her face as she read. Jez smirked and snorted quietly in amusement at some antic and winced at the fast and furious fight scenes. _

_Emma's world shrunk._

_All she could see, all she was aware of, were the facial features before her eyes. _

_When those red lips curved upwards in a delighted smile, Emma felt an answering one rise on her own. _

_When they pursed in disapproval, Emma felt her stomach lurch in concern. _

_Minutes became meaningless and she lost all sense of time. _

_She was harshly awakened from her haze by Jezebel hissing in dismay._

"_No." Her tone was one of utter shock and denial. Emma blinked, Jez's face had morphed into a mask of horror. "No." The book dropped from her nerveless fingers falling open at the page she'd been looking at. Emma ignored it and focused instead on the woman before her that was crumbling before her very eyes. "No."_

_What had happened?_

_Jez was sitting, staring steadfastly at her hands, dry-eyed. _

_She seemed to be in shock_

_Emma craned her head under to try and meet her gaze, but Jezebel's eyes were horribly blank, no life flickered at all in their amber depths. Suddenly she drew a shuddering breath. _

"_Why?" It was barely more than a pain filled whisper. "The fucking bastard!" She suddenly shouted, standing in one swift motion and passing through Emma as she did so. A shiver passed through Emma's body. "The rat-arsed, mother-fucking _**bastard-son-of-a-whore**_!" The distress, pain and rage in her voice, hurt_ _Emma deeply. Whipping around Jez ran for the side of the roof and leapt, while Emma watched in horror, until she heard the unmistakable 'clang' of metal and rushed to the edge. _

_Jezebel disappeared down the wrought iron fire-escape and into the warehouse through an open window. Instead of following straight away, Emma quickly went back to the comic and scanned the page briefly to see what had upset Jezebel so much._

_What she saw made her blood run cold._

_It was her and Scott. And Jean._

_It was when Emma had been trying to help Scott come to terms with his possession by Apocalypse. _

_It was when she had slowly begun to fall in love with him, his almost-naïve black and white view of the world, his caring side and quite frankly, his amazing physique._

_It was when she had seduced him into a psychic affair. _

_Had she been so blind even then? He wouldn't let her touch him physically and when they were intimate in her mind, he clothed her in his wife's old uniform and added a tint of red to her hair. Even her eyes had turned green, for God's sake!_

_Jean had been told by one of the Stepford Cuckoo's who was secretly working for Magneto, working to divide the X-men. Esme had taken great delight in revealing to Jean what was occurring in Emma's 'counselling sessions' with Scott. She had barged in and put a stop to it. Emma had then endured the most painful thing she'd ever experienced. Jean had torn through her mind with the finesse of a rampaging bull in a china tea shop with the Phoenix's power. Scott had done nothing. In some ways, that hurt more than what had happened next. _

_Jean had tormented her with vision of her Hellions death over and over until she brokenly agreed to a mental compunction to tell Jean the truth. She had managed to expose every foible and flaw Emma possessed and refused to listen to her heartfelt pleas (pleas damnit!) to stop. Every detail of her hard past had been laid bare and because of the compulsion she had to answer truthfully Jean's queries about intimate details she'd never planned on revealing to anyone._

_The experience had left her feeling raw and violated. Essentially, it had been a mental rape. Emma had never felt so exposed, vulnerable and judged as she had before the Phoenix's fiery gaze. _

_She had honestly believed she loved Scott. Having Jean doubt that had stung on top of everything else._

_Now she felt nothing but a rising panic for Jezebel._

_Concentrating on the roof beneath her feet, she felt her astral self slip through. Next thing she knew, she was on the floor of the warehouse. Disorientated, she glanced around. Her eyes fell on a heartbreaking sight._

_Jezebel, who had always remained strong and largely unbowed by events Emma had seen happen to her, was brokenly sobbing into Gareth's arms. _

_Tears were streaming down her face as her shoulders shook uncontrollably from the force of her sobs. He was hushing her gently, rocking her to-and-fro as a mother would and stroking her hair._

"_It's alright love, please, it'll be alright." He murmured into Jez's ear. Emma stood paralysed by guilt and a choking shame for being the cause of this turmoil. Intellectually she knew she shouldn't be feeling this way, but, _**damnit**_…"She's not even a real person…it could've _**never **_been anything…you knew that, right? You're from two different worlds, in more ways than one…And there are plenty of really nice birds out there who would _**kill**_ to be with you…Aw, please don't cry kiddo…"_

"_Wh-what…t-the…h-hell's_ **wrong**_ with me, Gar? Why does it _**hurt**_ so much?" Jezebel sobbed; her whole bearing and voice clearly showing her pain._

"_Nothing, it's normal…you're perfectly normal…You just have a little crush, that's all…It's nobody's fault…"_

"…_I _**knew **_it was stupid…I _**knew **_that nothing could ever…That _**I**_ could never…"Jez paused and sucked in a shuddering breath. "I just couldn't help it…She was flawed…but so perfect…" Emma felt her throat constrict and undeniable moisture built up in her eyes. "I mean, I watched her for years Gareth. Everything that's ever happened to her; her dysfunctional family, her brother committing suicide, being held hostage by a crazed gang, her boy-friend being murdered by them, her best friend betraying her, her first love abandoning her just 'cause she was _**different**_, her pupils being slaughtered, surviving Genosha…I saw it all. She hasn't become some abnormally self-righteous preacher, she's managed to look at the darkest side of human nature and not be destroyed. She's made adjustments to her views where they needed it, but hasn't tried to force everything into strictly black and white, right or wrong boxes. She's _**remained strong**. _She puts on an ice-queen act like she doesn't give a flying fuck what happens to anyone but herself…but deep down, I know if anything did happen, she would be the first one to protect and fight…" Emma bit her lip as tears began to course down her pale cheeks._

'_She…sees… me…?' she thought wonderingly._

_It was incredible to her that somebody, who'd never met her, had undoubtedly seen her in all her worst moments of her life, still found something worthy in her to admire, to shed tears for, to _**care**_ for…_

"_She could have had _**anyone**_, Gareth." Emma blinked. Did Jezebel really believe that?_

"_I know. I know." He spoke soothingly, running his hand down through her short auburn hair._

_For one of the few times in her life, Emma felt ashamed._

"_But him? That pathetic, weak and spineless emotionally stunted piece of-"_

"_Shhh…" Jez quieted slightly from her outburst, but groaned and grabbed her forehead. _

"…_Hurts…" She muttered thickly, shivering._

"_You'd best take y'medicine." Gareth said calmly and reached into her brown leather duffel bag, bringing out an orange plastic capsule and twisting the lid off. He passed her two oblong brownish pills and she took them gingerly, tipping her head back and dry swallowing them. "Better?" he asked after a minute._

_Her expression relaxed slightly. "Yeah."_

"_Try not to get so worked up." He said, mildly reproving._

_Jez was breathing heavily, in an obvious effort to try and breathe through her pain. "I just- Anyone but _**him**_. If I thought she was going to be happy with him, it would cane like a bitch…but at least I would know it's for the best. I could accept it…" Emma could see through Gareth's well-hidden expression of helplessness clearly. He obviously felt out of his depth to comfort his friend for something as bizarre as this._

"_Jez, love, you don't _**know** _they won't be happy…" Jez looked up and shot him an openly disbelieving look. "Alright, I admit it doesn't _**look** _good, his track record is terrible…but stranger things have_ _happened…"_

"_This_ **is** _Cy-cock we're talking about. He's so emotionally 'complicated' (nice euphemism for 'fucked-up') he should have his own classification in a bloody psychology text book. 'Emo-fuckwiticus' a new breed of emo…" Gareth snorted. After a moment, Jez also let out a weak chuckle._

"_That was pretty weak."_

_She let out a half-sob, half chuckle. "Yeah…"_

"_Some of my best friends are emo, y'know. Don't take the piss."_

"_Liar."_

"_They are!"_

_Suddenly, the brief, warm, bantering edge of their talk evaporated, as Jez's face grew hopeless once again._

"_But you told me Emma loves him…?" Gareth asked uncertainly. Clearly trying to prod Jez into speaking._

_Jez's face became melancholy and she moved closer into his embrace, seeking comfort. "Yes. That's what makes it so much worse. He's going to hurt her so much. She needs someone to compliment her, Scott is too different in every possible way, they don't mesh at all…He won't support her, won't care for her…And if that wasn't bad enough, he's still married! He's with Jean! He's a self-centred, self-pitying, pathetic little boy who doesn't even begin to comprehend just how _**great **_a gift he's being given…They were caught by Jean y'know. But when she went all apocalyptic on Emma (not even Scott!) he stood by and did nothing. He let Jean rip through her mind…" She drew in a shuddering breath. "I want to come out with you tonight." Gareth's eyebrows rose and Emma looked up, startled._

"_Are you sure?" He asked cautiously._

"_I need to get away from this. I need to get away from h…" Her voice began to crack and he instantly soothed her._

"_Hey, c'mon now... Alright, if you think you're up to it, you're on." She relaxed against his chest. _

_Emma watched the pain creasing her face and regretted that she'd managed to cause, even mistakenly, this hurt for Jezebel._

'_She's been through so much already…And I somehow just made things worse…If I'd known…Would I have done things differently…? '_

_There was a moment of silence, then Gareth spoke. "Jez?"_

"_Yeah…"_

"_Told you you'd understand the necessity of swearing one day…"_

_Jez's mouth turned upwards wanly as she attempted to grin. She barked out a short laugh and then groaned, clutching her ribs._

"_Have you been getting enough food?" His voice was concerned._

"_Yea-No." She sounded guilty._

"_You got to eat more, kiddo. There's only so much I can 'liberate' or get donated by the SA…and it's usually only _**just **_about enough for me. Darren and Master Lee don't make enough to support us, we're on our own. And the stupid shops seem t'get more wary every day…"_

"_It's what we get for living in Central London isn't it? I have been _**trying**_. Sometimes begging works…It's harder 'round here, everyone's got eyes like a hawk…And other dossers get really territorial about me encroaching on their turf…I've been run off so many times it's not funny."_

_He laughed dryly. "Kiddo, it's survival of the fittest out here and you are the best an' the worst I've ever seen…Y'know…I've met _**addicts **_who take better care of themselves than you… But I've never met anyone with a stronger will to live either… Ever since I picked you up, you've been skin and bone, nothing I do seems to make a difference. It's a miracle you haven't collapsed from exhaustion yet." He paused for breath in his nagging and cocked his to one side. "Bet you I could play 'God Save the Queen' on these fuckin' xylophone ribs o' yours."_

"_I'm sorry." She said meekly. There was another silence. Then Jezebel spoke again, sounding slightly stronger. "Gareth?"_

"_Yeah kiddo?"_

"_I think…it might be best…if we don't borrow anymore comics for awhile…"_

_Emma felt as though she'd been punched in the gut, all her air was driven out of her lungs._

_He nodded and smiled comfortingly. "O'course kiddo, whatever you want. Try not to think about it too much, it'll pass, I promise."_

_Emma stepped forward and without considering her actions, put her arms around the curled up figure. For a split second she hoped that _**this **_time she'd be able to touch, then it was dashed as her body was just passed through. It hurt not to be able to offer comfort. Pulling back slightly, she found that if she maintained a certain distance between their bodies, she could create the illusion of holding Jez and so she did, trying to ignore the feelings of frustration her tangibility elicited. _

'_I'm sorry' She thought, helplessly, 'I'm so sorry…'_

_Her eyes slid shut. "I hope so, Gar…" She breathed. "I truly do…"_

_The scene began to fade, but this time Emma stubbornly tried to resist the pull._

"_Jezebel, it's time to wake up now. You've slept long enough." She spoke aloud, to try and imbue her powers with power and command where mental skills failed her. _

_Although Emma wasn't certain exactly what she'd been expecting, the response she received startled her._

'_Tired…Hurt…Safe here…Don't want…' Jezebel's voice came from everywhere and nowhere, reverberating through her head and shaking Emma to the core with the intensity of weariness and hopelessness emanating from it._

"_Please darling," Emma felt a fission shock course through her at the endearment, as well as the fact she was actually begging, but didn't -couldn't- stop. "You need to wake up now, _**please**_ come with me…I'll keep you safe…"_

_There was a pause. Then like wind rustling through the autumn trees, Jezebel replied. Emma felt the weary resignation and something else, fleeting and gone, pass from her._

'_For you…'_

_She spends her nights in Central London, _

_Watching the stars on the comic scene_

_Then she lies awake and she wonders, _

"_Why can't that be me?"_

_'Cause in her life she is filled_

_With all these good intentions_

_She's left a lot of things _

_She'd rather not mention right now_

_But just before she says goodnight, _

_She looks up with a little smile at me,_

_And she says,_

"_If I could be like that,_

_I would give anything_

_Just to live one day, in those shoes_

_If I could be like that,_

_I would give anything_

_Just to live one day, in those shoes_

_If I could be like that, what would I do,_

_What would I do?"_

_Yeah _

_Now in dreams we run..._

_She spends her days up in Hyde park,_

_Watching the people as they pass_

_And all she wants is just_

_A little piece of this dream, _

_Is that too much to ask?_

_With a safe home and a warm bed, _

_On a quiet little street_

_All she wants is just that something to_

_Hold onto, that's all she needs_

_Yeah_

_If I could be like that,_

_I would give anything_

_Just to live one day, in those shoes_

_If I could be like that, what would I do,_

_What would I do_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah_

_I'm falling into this, _

_In dreams, we run away_

_If I could be like that,_

_I would give anything_

_Just to live one day, in those shoes_

_If I could be like that, what would I do,_

_What would I do_

_If I could be like that,_

_I would give anything_

_Just to live one day, in those shoes_

_If I could be like that, what would I do,_

_What would I do_

_If I could be like that,_

_I would give anything_

_Just to live one day, in those shoes_

_If I could be like that, what would I do,_

_Lord, What would I do _

_Yeah, yeah_

_Falling in_

_I feel I'm falling in,_

_To this again._

_Three Doors Down, Be Like That (Alphawolf remix)_

**Author's Notes:**

(cough) I'm glad **that's** over…  
If you want to see the page of the comic that distressed Jezebel (hell, I had to scrub my retina clean afterwards) so much, here's the link:

http/ upload dot wikimedia dot org/wikipedia/en/8/8e/Jeanscottemma dot png - I can take no responsibility for those of you who suffer mental damage from viewing this image, so no lawsuits alright? (if the link doesn't work go to wikipedia and search for Scott Summers, the picture should be somewhere on the page)

BTW – Yeah I did change some parts of the song. I think it's better this way ;D (still don't own it though)

REVIEW!


	11. Chapter 11: The Reason

**Disclaimers:**

See Chapter 1.

**Chapter 11: The Reason**

The first thing Emma was aware of was a blinding light.

Next came an almost crippling sense of guilt. "I'm sorry Jez…" She whispered hoarsely. What had she done? Regret and dismay swept over her.

The light was visible even through her closed eyelids and burned into her brain, irritating her to no end. A protesting sound left the back of her throat and she shifted around, trying to escape from the glare. Being so intimately connected to Jez had made bearing the projected anguish and confusion all the more painful and shaming. Emma was mildly surprised she wasn't crying from the intensity and rawness of emotion.

"Emma?" A rumbling voice. It sounded concerned.

Emma's eyes snapped open. The bleak interior of the Med Lab surrounded her.

"…Henry…?"

There was a almost inaudible sigh of relief. "Thank God." His massive furred bulk came into view, blocking out the harsh artificial light of the Med Lab. Emma tried to sit up, but found her head was spinning too much to accommodate her wishes. Her limbs felt shaky as well…

"What am I doing here?" She asked, voice throaty as though it was unused to speech.

"I couldn't wake you up." Her eyes shot instantly to his feline ones.

"What?" A sliver of fear slipped into her heart. Just how _long_ had she been out?

"I called you after you gone back to your room and didn't get a reply. At first, I simply assumed you had retired for the night, so I wasn't overly concerned. But once I had tried again in the morning…and you _still _weren't responding...Well, I found **that** a little more alarming, so I left Kitty in charge while-"

'WHAT!?' Emma snapped upright, the force of her shock spurring her into motion. Her mind raced. Kathryn probably used her cell phone around the sensitive medical equipment, did her nails and wandered off to get food, all **_without_** keeping a proper eye on Jezebel…

Henry blinked at her suddenly cold and furious expression in bewildered surprise. Although the mutual dislike the both of them had for the other was a well-known (indeed, well _publicised_) fact, Emma's reaction still seemed a little extreme.

"Emma…?" Henry sounded confused and slightly fearful at the coldness of her look. She reigned in her irritation and took several calming breaths.

'God. What's _wrong_ with me?' The thought of Kathryn keeping such a close watch on Jezebel filled Emma with an unnamed, insidious emotion that she refused to analyse.

"…Nothing. Carry on."

Hank continued, somewhat more slowly. "…While I came looking for you...After speaking to several people, it became apparent that no one had seen you since _dinner_…So I went straight to your room. I did knock, but there was no reply and I thought, well, that something was wrong, so…"

He was beginning to stammer and had taken off his delicate spectacles, polishing them on the hem of his crisp white shirt.

"Get to the point, Henry."

He shuffled nervously. "Ahem. Of course. You were lying on your bed, but I couldn't rouse you. I tried smelling salts, water, slapping-"

"What." Emma's eyes narrowed as he -hastily- moved on.

"Aha…well, eventually I got the Stepford Cuckoos in to scan you. They were unable to contact your mind, it was quite unnerving actually…said that "something powerful" was shielding you from them… I told them you must be investigating the new arrival's mind, they were curious…But I don't think they got anything from me. I had Kurt bring you here. Everyone thinks you're just scanning her still."

"How long has it been? Twelve hours? Eighteen?" Why was he dancing around the issue? "Well?"

"You've been 'asleep' for seventy-one hours and twenty-seven minutes, Emma." He sounded tense, as though he was worried about her reaction. She felt impressed at Jezebel's stamina, amazed that the memories had taken that long but amazingly, no fear or anger towards the woman. She found the idea of someone being stronger than her didn't bother as much as it usually would.

'Because she wouldn't hurt me.' The voice was certain in its knowledge and Emma didn't question it. Indeed, she had been both surprised and touched at the level of care and affection Jez had shown towards her. She didn't fully understand **why** Jez seemed to care so much for her, but it had given her a warm and…_comforted_…feeling nonetheless, knowing that someone did. She found herself wishing Jez would wake up soon. There was a slight cough from Henry and Emma realised she had been silent for too long.

"That's quite a stretch." She was relaxed and calm, something she hadn't felt for a long time. "I assume you have the EEG results now?" Henry's face became animated and he moved around excitedly (really, it was just shy of bouncing with enthusiasm). Obviously something of interest had sparked his scientific mind.

"Emma, it was truly extraordinary!" Emma resisted smirking at his exuberance; he was practically rubbing his hands together in glee. "Once her results came in, they showed all the classic symptoms of brain death. There was no electrical activity between the neurons in her brain and she wasn't exhibiting any signs of 'normal' sleep patterns….I knew it couldn't be correct however, as you had already told me about her dream sympathy, so I kept reviewing them." He paused, cat eye's shining with wonder. "Then out of the blue, her previously inactive brain into shifted _directly_ from flatlining into theta waves! It was simply amazing! **That** was when I went looking for you. And once you were placed here, I decided to carry out the EEG on you as well, see if my assumption about her dragging you into her mind had occurred again." Henry paused again, this time drawing in a delighted, shuddering breath.

"And?" Emma was beginning to feel the first stirrings of irritation and impatience. Why couldn't he just get _on_ with it?

"Your brainwaves synchronised."

Emma blinked.

'Synchronised?' The word echoed around her head.

"Her vital stats had mutated, mimicking yours and her brain patterns were an _exact_ match. I could overlay the print-out over each other perfectly. You both were physically and mentally connected as much as it's possible to be without…well." He seemed unable to think of an adequate comparison. Fortunately (?) Emma **was**.

'Sex…' Purred the predatory side of her that was the White Queen.

Shaking her head to clear (and deny) the images, Emma tried to articulate some of her thoughts. "So that means she's awake now?" She tried not to let her hope taint her tone too much as Henry nodded, albeit cautiously.

"Remember Emma, both her body **and** mind have been through many traumatic experiences. She's no longer in a coma, but neither is she truly awake yet." The elation Emma had felt rising through the pit of her stomach turned sour.

Face impassive, she asked, "Where is she?" Apprehensively, Henry beckoned her. Standing shakily (ignoring his offer of assistance), she followed him into an adjoining section.

Jezebel lay on a more comfortable looking Med Lab bed, still with the tubes attached and monitoring her, but her face seeming healthier than it had before and her body much less gaunt. Emma resisted the inappropriate temptation to rush straight to Jez's side and hold her hand.

"Why isn't she in isolation?"

"When you two synchronised, her immune and lymphatic systems made an instantaneous recovery. She's fully stabilised." Henry sounded pleased. Emma moved over to the bed and stared pensively down at her.

So young. So strong.

Her heart almost leapt straight out of her chest when Jezebel's eyes suddenly flicked open and fastened her with a piercing gaze. Emma's breath hitched and her hands clenched convulsively into fists.

"Jez…?" She asked, wonderingly, almost fearfully. She heard Henry make a startled exclaimation of surprise behind her.

"Em…ma…?" Jez's voice was cracked and harsh and painfully disbelieving. Emma found herself immediately moving the metal guard rail on the bed down and gingerly sitting as close as she could, never losing her connection with Jez's riveting hazel eyes.

"Yes." She stretched out her hand without thinking and caressed Jez's cheek gently. "You're safe. I promise." Jez's face lost the pinched tenseness and relaxed at Emma's words. Her eyes rolled into the back of her skull, breaking their connection as her body went abruptly limp. Emma let out the breath she'd been unconsciously holding and rubbed her own eyes tiredly. She felt like screaming in frustration. So **close**…

'Too much to hope for that she'd actually stay awake…' She thought sarcastically, but then brightened. 'She recognised me.' It filled her with a suffusive glow to think that despite everything that had happened, all the hurt she'd caused...Jez still recognised Emma.

The nervous clearing of a throat roused her from her contemplation.

"AH-hem." She realised her position; sitting close to Jez with her thumb still absently tracing the girl's cheekbone (when had THAT happened...?), might not be the most professional. Emma stood quickly and faced Henry. He was watching her with an odd, considering expression.

"What?" She snapped, feeling defensive.

Henry raised his arms in defence and shook his muzzled head. "I was just surprised at the level of concern you're showing for her." Puzzlement tinged his tone and his eyebrow tufts quirked in confusion.

Emma allowed her impassive, uncaring mask to settle over her face. "Honestly Henry, I'm not _completely_ incapable of empathy -or the monster people often paint me as. I am a telepath after all." Seeing his suspicion remain, she internally rolled her eyes and continued. "I also have spent the past three days inside her mind. It's a normal response for telepaths to be…somewhat protective of someone they've been so closely connected to."

'Yes dear, just _keep_ telling yourself that…' A voice sardonically told her.

She tried to ignore it. "When will she wake up _now_?"

Henry scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, she's entered a natural sleep cycle, so anywhere from several hours to several days. It's notoriously hard to predict these things. The mind needs to adapt and heal at its own pace." Emma gave an internal sigh. That was something she was familiar with. "There's no point waiting here for her to wake up. You've also got classes today, remember?" She blinked.

'Damnit. I'd forgotten about them…'

* * *

A hectic hour later, Emma had raced back to her room, washed, changed from her robe into (slightly) more suitable attire, hastily eaten and then headed off to her first lesson. 

'No rest for the wicked.' She thought to herself, trying to marshal her thoughts into some semblance of order. Several students greeted her respectfully as they passed and she replied distractedly. Try as she might, she could not fully banish the scenes she'd witnessed inside Jezebel's mind. Emma disliked leaving her now there was a chance of her awakening, but she had no choice; physically there was nothing wrong with her and she'd already spent several days away from the classroom (albeit in an unconscious state) and couldn't afford to 'waste' any more time.

Thus, it was in this irritated frame of mind that she swept into her classroom. Emma's class were already seated except Jubilee. She quickly sat -without argument- (a first, Emma was certain) after seeing Emma's dark expression.

"Good morning, class." She said, eyes raking across the room for any misbehaving. For once, she was disappointed. However, as she turned to her desk, something caught her eye and almost made her forget everything else.

It was Jezebel's duffle bag.

"Good morning Ms. Frost." Her fingers twitched with the effort it took not to immediately open the bag and search through it. Emma gave a heavy mental sigh. She could tell this was one lesson that wouldn't end soon enough.

"…Freud believed that the unconscious mind's desires held great sway over the conscious-" Emma's lecture was cut short by the bell. "Alright. I want a paper on Freud's theory and its link to the repression of memories by next lesson, to be handed into me." There was a collective mental groan from the group. They'd learned long ago not to vocalise their misgivings unless they wanted extra work.

She watched as they dashed excitedly out the door, in a hurry to get the room fastest and away to the relative safety of the cafeteria. As the last student left, she paused, making sure none were backtracking for some forgotten item and then gently grabbed Jez's bag, pulling it to her chest. The scent of slightly burnt leather and pine assailed her senses and she inhaled deeply, drawing it deep into her lungs. Underneath lay the faintest hint of musk that Emma knew instinctively belonged to Jezebel.

She found that her eyes had slid shut at the strangely comforting fragrance and forced them open. Hurriedly throwing her papers into a folder, she stalked from the room.

A more thorough examination needed to be carried out somewhere more **private**.

It was the beginning of her lunch hour and she was now comfortably ensconced in her office on her large leather chair (brown surprisingly). Her feet were placed precisely on her desk and she casually sipped a cup of Lady Grey tea (the irony of the name wasn't lost upon her).

The bag sat in the middle of her desk and she watched it carefully, as though waiting for it to move.

Leaning back in her seat, Emma set down her mug and slowly unbuckled the straps holding the bag securely closed. She was surprised to have found it still on her desk. Obviously Scott had been too wrapped up in his self-righteous anger to notice the small detail. That irritated her. If he'd been so _concerned_ about security, surely he should have paid closer attention to other breaches…

Emma had thought over and analysed every scene Jezebel had shown to her with the most thorough care. She was incredibly curious as to exactly how Jezebel had managed to pass through the separate world's boundaries and arrive here…There seemed no logical explanation for it (although that didn't necessarily mean anything)…She also couldn't help but wonder where Gareth and Darren were as well. Why had they let Jez go alone? Had the whole thing been a mistake? Or were they elsewhere within this world, confused and alone? She had many questions that could only be answered when Jez awakened. Her original shock and dismay over her discovery that Jez's world used the X-men's lives as entertainment had died. It was no different to the situation here with the comics the children read. Probably in some distant world, characters like 'Batman' or 'Superman' existed as well. She couldn't help but admit that, from what she had seen, Jez took her comics' storylines very seriously indeed…Why else would she have got so upset about what two -to her- fictional characters did?

There was a part of Emma that worried Jez had completely rejected X-men. Witnessing the level of hurt her own actions had elicited had been a shocking (distressing) and somewhat eye-opening, experience. Emma realised she could not blame her if, when she woke, Jez was bitter and cold towards her. There was nothing she could do to fix her mistake. The thought made her feel extremely melancholy. She found herself wondering what would've happened, had she done things differently. Emma never would have fallen for Scott if she'd known what true love was. Emma frowned introspectively. But she still didn't know _now_. Intellectually, she thought she had a good grasp on the subject, but her heart was now telling her differently.

'Admit it, darling,' She mocked. 'Have you ever _truly _loved someone? Has anyone _ever _truly loved you in return?'

An empty, hollow feeling spread throughout her body. She was quite alone. No family. No friends.

Emma realised she'd been staring blankly at the duffel for a long time. Shaking her head, she tried to snap herself out of it.

'That's quite enough stalling and wallowing for the present. It's not going to bite, just open the damn thing…'

She tilted the bag and gently upended its contents, trying to ensure nothing broke as items fell out onto her previously neat and ordered desk. Distracted, she only vaguely noticed that the bag was accompanied by a dull rattle as she let it drop onto the table top.

A tarnished silver lighter. A dented water flask. A faded and well-worn bandanna. A large switch-blade (it was well oiled and cared for, making Emma wonder how often it had been used). Miscellaneous pens/pencils in various degrees of being chewed up. A scratched and battered first-aid tin. A leather-bound set of tools which told Emma quite clearly that Jez had indeed become proficient in lock-picking. An old toothbrush, the bristles worn and mangled. A small pouch of (no doubt) British money that clinked as it hit the desk. A small cache of energy bars in plastic wrappers. Then, underneath everything and folded up into a tiny square, was a carefully preserved (a miracle really) piece of paper. Curiously, she slowly unfolded its heavily creased edges.

An involuntary smile crossed Emma's lips at the scene before her.

It was the page of her dressed in her Hellfire club glory.

"She kept it…" Emma murmured wonderingly, her fingertips lightly tracing the picture.

* * *

_I'm not a perfect person  
There's many things I wish I didn't do  
But I continue learning  
I never meant to do those things to you  
And so I have to say before I go  
That I just want you to know  
_

_  
I've found a reason for me  
To change who I used to be  
A reason to start over new  
and the reason is you  
_

_  
I'm sorry that I hurt you  
It's something I must live with everyday  
And all the pain I put you through  
I wish that I could take it all away  
And be the one who catches all your tears  
That's why I need you to hear  
_

_  
I've found a reason for me  
To change who I used to be  
A reason to start over new  
and the reason is you  
_

_  
And the reason is you  
And the reason is you  
And the reason is you  
_

_  
I'm not a perfect person  
I never meant to do those things to you  
And so I have to say before I go  
That I just want you to know  
_

_  
I've found a reason for me  
To change who I used to be  
A reason to start over new  
And the reason is you  
_

_  
I've found a reason to show  
A side of me you didn't know  
A reason for all that I do  
And the reason is you_

_Hoobastank, The Reason_

* * *

**Author Notes:**

Yes...I realise I have been heinously absent for a long time. All I can offer are my heartfelt apologies (and more chapters, obviously). School and exams have been riding my arse pretty hard and I've been feeling very stressed (not conducive to story writing) for a **very** long time (still am, if I'm honest). I hope I never have an absence as long as this again, but I can't promise anything. I also know there are going to be quite a few reviews in the vein of: 'ARRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH!!!' - I assure you this is nothing compared to my own (or Emma's, for that matter) frustration. I have spent so long on this chapter, my eyes have almost bled and I'm still not 100 percent happy with it. I tried so bloody hard to make Jez wake up and she really **didn't** want to (stubborn little-). But fear not, sleeping beauty shall awaken. Very soon. I can practically _taste_ it (erm, you know what I mean...).

For this chapter, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed in the last one (seriously, thanks you guys). It really made a difference and gave me the impetus I needed to start again. I really appreciate it. If anyone is still paying attention to this story, please review. The next chapter will be up in around in a week or so. In the unlikely event I get shitloads of reviews, I'll step up efforts and try to finish the next part quicker.


	12. Chapter 12: Where Is My Mind

**Disclaimers:**

See Chapter 1.

**Chapter 12: Where Is My Mind**

Jez was floating in an azure ocean. The sun was beating down heavily upon her, making her skin tingle and burn. White gulls circled lazily above her, calling to each other in their harsh voices. The gentle, rhythmic lapping of the waves was soothing, threatening to lull her into an even greater state of relaxation and peace. Tropical fish, multicoloured and beautiful flitted gracefully around her body.

Then, amidst the tranquil beauty and serenity surrounding her, Jez frowned. Something was wrong. She wasn't meant to be here. She had promised…someone…something…

A silver fish swam eye-level beside her, sunlight reflecting off its iridescent scales and cascading into a myriad of dazzling colours.

'You're dreaming' It told her. 'Wake-'

"U…p…" She slurred thickly. Her eyes flickered open and then almost immediately flinched shut under the sudden bright glare.

'What the bloody hell?' Jezebel was completely disorientated.

What had happened? Where was she? The last thing she remembered was going out with Gareth and Darren for their anniversary (that couldn't be right, could it?)...And a vague impression of intense heat searing into her skin...accompanied by the choking reek of blood, smoke and sweat…A shudder rippled down her spine as her mind shied violently away from the memory. She didn't **want** to remember it, whatever '**it**' was…

There was another, unconnected, but lingering memory of sky blue eyes boring anxiously into hers too, though she could remember nothing of the face.

'Feels like someone shoved me through an industrial meat grinder…' Opening her eyes cautiously again, Jez blearily examined her environment and struggled to try and sit upright. Unfortunately, her muscles felt like un-set jelly and refused to obey her commands. Finally, she gave up and collapsed panting on her back. Blood pumped madly in her veins at her strenuous -but ultimately _failed_- effort.

"Boll..ocks …" She mumbled, tongue leaden with the unpleasant sensation it had grown a layer of fur. Taking deep, calming breaths; she began to fully take in her surroundings for the first time.

What she saw filled her with dread.

Sterile white walls, artificial UV lights, and an underlying sense of clinical menace surrounded her, suffocating the very air in her lungs.

Her heart began to beat unsteadily with a visceral fear.

'They found me. Oh damn, they _found_ me…' Her mind panicked. She didn't know how she ended up here, but there could only be one reason why she was in this kind of place. With an effort, Jez stifled a whimper as she caught sight of the sinister tubes feeding into her body.

'Oh **fuck**, what have they **done **to me!!!' Jez thought wildly, ripping the offending things out of her body and wincing at the sharp pain as she did so. There were even ones on her _head_! Fear lent her weakened limbs strength and she managed use the frightened momentum to swing her legs off the bed, dangling limply over the side. She huddled on the edge of the bed, rubbing her arms frantically where the needle intrusions had been and trembling.

It was then she noticed her state of undress. Jez was 'clothed' (if you could call it that) in a thin, papery hospital gown. She could feel a draft on her back where there wasn't any fabric. Another flash of fear shot through her. What had they been **doing** to her? Where in the hell _was_ she? And **where **were Darren and Gareth?

Jez shook her head; she couldn't waste time wondering about these things. She had to just **find** Gareth and Darren and get the heck **out** of here as soon as she could. Jez didn't think she'd be able to take it if she ended up like her mother.

She slid awkwardly off the bed with a pained grunt, which changed to a hiss of surprise when her legs turned to water and gave way beneath her. Jez rolled as she hit the floor, which mostly masked the sound of impact. She lay, frantically panting on the floor, sick with the realisation that her body was much, _much_ worse off than she'd thought.

She was practically helpless. How **long** had she been here?! Or was this something else _they_ were responsible for?

An image flickered through her mind; Jon laughing at her as she had cringed and tried to crawl away from his punishing blows. She was vulnerable again, just when she couldn't afford it. Too much was at stake. Shutting her eyes, Jez focused on moving her legs.

'Move.' She willed them. A toe on her left foot twitched. 'You want to wait for them to come back?' Her calf muscle jumped. 'They'll never let you go.' Her whole leg jerked. 'You're going to die here, a nameless science project for some freak to dissect.' Strength surged through her limbs and clinging to the bed, she slowly pushed herself to her feet.

Jez crouched, taking deep breaths to stabilize herself. The miraculous, Herculean effort had left her legs trembling. Her naked body shivered uncontrollably and goose-bumps raised the surface of her sweat-soaked skin. Trying not to think about other possible implications concerning her lack of clothes, she moved quietly forward with all the skill gained from living on the street for so long. Silently, Jez willed her legs not to give out until **after** she'd escaped.

The door led onto a larger, imposing and even more sterile and unfriendly large laboratory. The lights here were equally artificially bright and sent a wave of nausea roiling through the pit of her stomach. She felt exposed and vulnerable, like an insect under the scrutinising gaze of a microscope. An unrelenting computerised beeping was sounding and she could see lights flashing on computer consoles around the room. Jez felt her herself tremble involuntarily again and berated herself for the weakness.

'Calm down you big wuss.' She chided mentally, and then had to prevent a loud panic stricken gasp escape as she finally noticed a person hunched over a large desk. Their back was to the entrance of the room and in her sudden spiking fear, she was unable to process any features. Her mind immediately flew unthinkingly into the most primitive mode of response as the figure twitched and made as if to rise. Presumably they had finally noticed the noises emitting from the computers.

Stumbling clumsily forward, she grabbed an empty stainless steel tray (used for something she probably **really** didn't want to know about) and swung it with (considering her weakened state) deadly accuracy into the back of the threat's skull.

Adrenaline surged and she felt the fierce euphoria of animalistic pride as the figure gave a soft sigh and then crumpled to the floor.

"Oh _shit_…" She rasped as the hot buzz pulsing through her veins abruptly fizzled out and Jez realised just _what_ she had attacked. The metal tray slipped from her nerveless grasp and clattered noisily to the floor.

Jez fell into a bewildered crouch and examined the prostrate body now sprawled on the floor. It was a petite brunette, hair pulled back into a loose ponytail with a charming heart-shaped face which wasn't at all ruined by a slightly upturned nose. She was wearing a casual white tank-top with a 'Hello Kitty!' logo and a pair of beige cargo shorts. In her ears was a pair of headphones, linked up to a laptop.

To say Jez was confused was an understatement.

This _wasn't_ the guard she'd been expecting.

Why had they left this woman (who couldn't be much older than her, for crying out loud) to watch her? Where were the doctors in white coats to sedate and endlessly poke and prod her?

There was something not right going on here, but Jez really didn't want to linger and find out **what** exactly what it was. She was really worried about Gareth and Darren.

"And why I can't remember anything…" She admitted aloud, her exertions making her voice shaky and harsh. Eyeing up the woman's clothes, she came to a sudden decision.

"Sorry love." Jez muttered as she awkwardly peeled off the garments, leaving the woman in a lacy pink bra and matching knickers, while trying to avoid looking at any exposed (however well-formed…) flesh. Despite Gareth's accusations, she was _not_ a letch…

Straining slightly with her weakened body, she pulled the clothes on, wincing at the feebleness of her limbs.

'Finally, being thin is paying off.' She thought, staring down at herself. Had she been better fed, then the clothes wouldn't have fit. As it was, despite them being a few sizes too small, they still hung slightly loose on her narrow frame. However, the short legs came up a bit too high and, because she had refused to take the woman's underwear, if she wasn't careful, she was in grave danger of flashing someone. After a second's indecision, Jez decided it was the least of her worries. Unfortunately, the shoes were nowhere near a match (the woman had tiny feet) and so she left them with their owner and instead placed the gown she'd been wearing on the unconscious girl. The black tiled floor was freezing cold to her bare feet, but she was used to uncomfortably cold temperatures. England -_London_- in winter was no laughing matter. Gareth used to have some very interesting phrases to describe it...

Strangely (although it wasn't as if any of this was _normal_) her hands and face were unnaturally clean, like somebody had scrubbed a layer of skin off. Quickly appraising the rest of her body, she quickly noticed the same thing. Jez shivered as her skin prickled uncomfortably. The thought of someone touching her while she was helpless and unconscious was terrifying. Switching her attention to the task at hand, she cautiously reached out to the woman and lifted back an eyelid. The pupil reacted instantly to the light, shrinking and contracting and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Well, she hadn't caused concussion.

As she placed her fingers to the pulse of the girl's neck, a flash of gold caught her eye and despite her best efforts not to look, her gaze was drawn down to a delicate golden chain hanging around the woman's neck; it held the Star of David.

Jez felt the brief, scavenger urge to take it, before what remained of her morals kicked in. She was not a killer…or a petty thief…

Glancing around again at the unfriendly and clinically cold room, as well its flashing monitors and glittering trays of surgical tools (making her shiver in fear and dread at the sight) she grabbed the woman's feet. Grunting, she pulled as hard as she could, dragging the unconscious woman into the room she'd been in, while trying to ignore the cloying fear and claustrophobia that rose like bile to the back of her throat.

Bloody hell, she hated this room already…

Bracing herself, she then hoisted the woman up slightly and rolled her onto the bed. Taking the thin white hospital sheets, Jez twisted them until it became rope-like and hurriedly bound the the girl's wrists and ankles. Stepping back, she examined her handiwork and wiped a small amount of sweat from her brow, the effort required had left her shaky.

"Done." She rasped, wishing for some water, but the room was empty. Her nerves jangled as she exited the room, picking up the chair the woman had been sitting in and jamming it under the door handle. There. Now she wasn't going anywhere. A brief smirk flickered across her face. Unless she could walk through _walls_ or something. Despite her situation, Jez almost laughed at the notion. She'd always been fascinated by Shadowcats' power.

'Yeah, like _that_ was going to happen…' Something half-forgotten nagged at her mind for a moment, before she brushed it impatiently away. She was wasting enough time as it was.

Drawing in a steadying breath, Jez cautiously made her way past all the medical and computer equipment, flinching at every bleep or whir. She was wound tighter than a spring and ready to explode again, even though she was pretty sure her body would collapse from the effort. After careful exploration, during which she fully expected to be caught by someone, she found the only exit to the lab was a hi-tech lift. There was no sign of Gareth or Darren. Maybe they were held somewhere else? Or maybe they managed to get away...

Suspiciously she pressed the call button. There was a soft 'ding' as the lift doors slid open. Nervously, Jez stepped inside and almost jumped as the door closed after her. Swallowing the immediate urge to panic and bang against the doors, she instead examined the small buttons. Basement 1– Med Lab, Basement 2– Hanger, Ground Floor, First Floor and Second Floor. After the briefest of hesitations, Jez pressed Ground Floor.

'Not far to jump if I have to leave by a window…'

The button lit up and the lift began to smoothly move upwards. Jez began to compose herself, calming her mind and trying to stop the shaking of her hands.

The lift doors opened.

'Alright, let's go.'

She lurched out the doors and glanced quickly up and down. Empty corridors were on either side of her, which to her further confusion were not the industrialised white tiles. Instead, there was soft plush carpet beneath her feet and tasteful wallpaper adorning the walls. Almost immediately, for the first time since awakening, her shoulders relaxed. The oppressive presence of the laboratory lifted and she could breathe properly again. Straightening, she glanced in both directions again and then gave up trying to decide which was the more sensible and just went left.

Her strides were (attempting to be, anyway) measured and confident, faltering only briefly now and then. An important trick she'd picked up from various burglary (and gate-crashing) exploits with Gareth, was that if you _looked_ like you thought you belonged, then people rarely questioned your presence. Unfortunately, the trick was made substantially more difficult by the tremors that kept shaking her legs and the swaying faintness assaulting her head (and that was ignoring the ridiculously ill-fitting clothes). Periodically, Jez was forced to lean heavily against a wall and take several fortifying gulps of air. Up ahead she heard the sounds of excited voices, talking loudly. Jez froze, wondering whether or not to retrace her steps, but the decision was taken out her hands as the voices came too close and she could not make cover in time. Heart thumping anxiously, she continued to take deliberate steps forward, attempting to project an outwardly casual air. This faltered at the sight that met her eyes.

It was a bunch of kids. A little younger than her maybe, but it was hard to tell. They were talking and laughing animatedly between themselves, obviously not a threat.

"-And so I said 'Oh yeah biaytch?' and totally whaled on his face!" A pretty Asian girl with pink sunglasses and a bright yellow duster grinned enthusiastically. As her brain stirred, Jez had the oddest sensation that she'd seen her before.

"Bet that went down well." Snorted a red-headed girl with green eyes and wearing an amused expression.

"Nah…Ol' wolvie pulled me off him and read me the riot act. He's gotten stuffy in his old age…" The girl pouted and the group laughed. Jez's mind was swirling with confusion. Why were there _kids_ in a lab? Why was this part completely different to the place she'd been? Was it just her, or was something about this whole thing eerily familiar? And **why **in the **hell** were these kids all _American_?

Recovering, Jez walked past, staring aloofly ahead, avoiding eye contact and hoping they didn't notice her lack of footwear. She held her breath as she brushed past and only released it once she was a good distance away. The group only spared her a brief cursory glance, their looks lingering on her ill-fitting clothes. As she turned the corner, Jez slumped gratefully against the wall for support and scrubbed her face vigorously with her hands. She was lucky they hadn't paid her any attention. Her body trembled slightly with unused adrenaline and strain. Jez hoped she'd make it out before she collapsed or something.

It was all so damn _surreal_…

Pulling herself together she continued along the corridor, until it opened out into open hall.

It was alive.

Kids bustled to and fro, laughing, calling, joking and shoving each playfully. Jez stared, but somehow managed to keep walking. She'd never been in a place like this before.

"-calculus next?"

"Homework?!!"

"Oh, you're in trouble now!"

"Aw man!"

"Dude, you are _sooo_ **busted**!"

The snatches of conversation around her, threw her into a greater state of confusion. 'I'm in a _school_?'

A set of large oaken doors stood ajar beyond the sea of students and Jez aimed for it, trying to ignore her feelings of helpless consternation. She needed to get out of here…

Jez adopted a more submissive, slumped shuffle, avoiding eye-contact and hunching in on herself. It always worked for when she and Gareth had wanted to be completely unnoticed. It was less tiring to do and somehow managed to make eyes slide away unseeingly from her, to pass unmarked within the crowd.

* * *

Or so she thought. 

Unbeknownst to Jezebel, a set of interested dark eyes followed her progress across the hall, attracted by the potent mix of fear and confusion exuded by her overstressed body. The shadow detached itself from its hiding place and began stalking the escaping figure, nostrils flaring at the unfamiliar -and wounded- scent.

* * *

Outside the air was clear. Jezebel inhaled deeply, taking the indefinable smell of freedom. 

'Alright, let's not get too carried away…You're not out of the woods yet…' She chided herself, but couldn't completely contain the small measure of hope filling her heart.

The sun shone brightly and her eyes watered at the exposure and adjustment to natural light. Peering around, she realised wherever it was she had ended up had enormous grounds.

'Flipping heck…' Jez rubbed the back of her neck and began to move stiffly forwards, willing herself to at least get off the property before she broke down. Making her even more uncomfortable was the fact she couldn't shift an unpleasant sensation that she was being watched…

* * *

The shadow followed at a distance, carefully stalking its prey. It was curious. As it flitted from shade to shde, a rough, rumbling voice stopped it in its tracks. 

"Somethin' caught yer interest darlin'?"

A plume of pungent cigar smoke was exhaled. The shadow snorted softly, trying not to breathe in the distracting smell and turned its head to stare fixedly at the hesitantly limping figure of the tall -but hunched over- girl.

Logan stepped away from the wall he was leaning against and into the sunlight. "Huh." He grunted, grinding the cigar into the ground with his toughened and worn leather boots.

Dark eyes, identical to his, met his gaze in silent question.

"Looks like Emma's girl woke up…"

The young pre-pubescent-looking girl standing before him, cocked her head to one side in a decidedly animal-like gesture.

Laura Kinney AKA "X-23" was Logan's clone. She had been produced by the infamous terrorist organisation, Hydra in an attempt to recreate and improve upon, the Weapon X project's Wolverine.

**_Snikt_**.

Two adamantium coated claws shot from between the knuckles on both her hands. Unlike Logan she only possessed two claws on each hand and the rest of her skeleton wasn't coated in protective adamantium. As a result, her body wasn't as resilient or durable as Logan's, but leant the positive aspect of an increased and more powerful healing factor as she wasn't constantly having to repair the damage done by a full metal-to-bone skeletal graft. Laura was also gifted with the same heightened senses and reflexes that Wolverine possessed. This, coupled with the intense conditioning and training she'd received since birth, meant X-23 was a lethal weapon, whose abilities could potentially surpass his own.

Unfortunately she also retained animalistic behavioural patterns and reactions to situations, caused by her isolation at birth and only limited contact to humans in subsequent years. The one person to show any love and affection towards her was Dr. Sarah Kinney, a scientist on the project, who had been the forced carrier of Laura's fetus. It was from her that X-23 gained her human name; Laura Kinnely.

All this, was belied by her child-like appearance. Laura was a short, but gangly ivory pale girl, with long ebony hair that framed equally dark eyes. Logan shook his head at her unspoken query, hiding his disquiet at his clone's behaviour. He understood her, most of the time and liked her too. He just wished he knew how to help her conquer her animal urges, something that seemed nigh on impossible sometimes. Logan wondered if things would be different if she had friends to provide positive role models…But it wasn't like that was going to happen any time soon…most kids here were scared shitless of her...and if he was honest...sometimes he thought they had good reason.

"No need fer that, kid. Let's just round her up." He began to take long, loping strides forward and Laura fell in silently beside him as they started to close in on the unwary girl.

* * *

The hair on the back of her neck rose. 

Something was **not** right…

Jez glanced over her shoulder, unable to deny the sensation of eyes on her back any longer.

The man was short, stocky and built like an armoured tank. He had dark hair which was cut short and gelled into pointed tufts…Huh…weird…His muscles rippled visibly through his tight, black short-sleeved t-shirt and faded and torn at-the-knees blue jeans. He seemed vaguely familiar…The other was more of a puzzle; slight and child-like in appearance, she nevertheless possessed the same lithe, graceful movements of a professional dancer.

Or a professional killer.

"Hey kid," The man called, his voice a low rumble. The girl beside him remained quiet, her eyes fixed upon Jez with an animal intensity that was more than a little unnerving.

'Oh bollocks…' Jez swore to herself. She had been stupid to forget about the possibility of security. There was no mistaking the purpose and power behind their movements.

She had a split second of indecision where she doubted her body could rise to the demands of the situation.

But really, she had no choice.

Jez broke into a shambling, limping run, her bare feet slapping the ground while her calf muscles shrieked their protest. Her only hope was to make for the trees…They would provide cover and camouflage at least. It would be much more difficult for them to follow her...the downside was it'd slow her down as well…She drew a sobbing breath, lungs burning and willed herself to move faster.

Behind her, Jez heard her pursuers change their pace as well. Risking a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw the distance between them was closing alarmingly. Her body was failing her with its shakiness and residual stiffness. The persistent burning in her lungs warned Jez that she couldn't hope to maintain the pace she'd set herself for long. Each step Jez took, felt as if she was constantly battling through several layers of molasses clinging to her limbs.

"Damn it kid, stop running, yer hurting yerself!" Grunted the gruff voice close behind her.

'How about 'no'?' Jez's mind quipped as another surge of adrenaline shot through her. It was strange he was worried about her hurting herself, though. Maybe they needed her in undamaged for whatever sick experiment they had planned. Jez refused to believe this was how things would end after surviving for so long.

She couldn't.

It was like all her nightmares come true.

_

* * *

__With your feet in the air and your head on the ground  
You tried this trick, and spin it  
Your head would collapse,__ but there's nothing in it so you ask yourself  
_

_  
Where is my mind?  
Where is my mind?  
Where is my mind?  
_

_  
Way out in the water  
See it swimming  
_

_  
I was swimming in the carribean  
Animals were hiding behind the rock  
Except for the fish and it told me  
I swear it was trying to talk to me  
Saying,_

_  
Where is my mind?  
Where is my mind?  
Where is my mind?  
_

_  
With your feet in the air and your head on the ground  
You tried this trick, spinning  
Your head would collapse but there's nothing in it so you ask yourself  
_

_  
Where is my mind?  
Where is my mind?  
Where is my mind?  
_

_  
Way out in the water  
See it swimming _

_**The Pixies, Where Is My Mind**_

**

* * *

****Author Notes: **

Just in case…

**Weapon X **was a clandestine government project conducted by the Canadian Government's Department K (and secretly funded by the US government) which turns willing and unwilling beings into living weapons. The project often captures mutants and experiments on them to enhance their superpowers and also mutates baseline humans. For example, Wolverine and Sabertooth.

Weapon X was part of a larger program: Weapon Plus, a United States supersoldier program created in the 1940's with the purpose of creating supersoldiers and assassins not only to be employed in conventional wars, but also to be employed for the extermination of mutants. Weapon X was the first installation of Weapon Plus that victimized mutants.

What the Weapon X scientists did not foresee is that the experimentation on Wolverine would cause him to go on a murderous ramage, which allowed the escape of the other test subjects, and caused the deaths of the Professor and Dale Rice, among dozens of other members of Weapon X staff, both scientists and military.

Weapon X was temporarily shut down but eventually was reinstalled. Subsequent attempts at recreating the success seen by Weapon X with Wolverine include the feral woman called the Native, and X-23, the 23rd attempt to clone Wolverine, who was designed to also hunt down rogue agents. The _Weapon X re-creation Project_ was headed by Dr. Zander Rice, Dr. Sarah Kinney and Dr. Martin Sutter.

Next chapter up as quick as I can (school is still being a major obstacle). I would recommend people putting this on their alerts, if they haven't already done so. It'll save you having to check back constantly. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Seems people haven't forgotten this yet, which is very heartening.


	13. Chapter 13: Whatshername

**Disclaimer: **

**See Chapter 1. **

**Dedicated to Lia. You died too soon. Miss you. **

**Chapter 13: Whatshername **

Emma sat at her desk, glasses perched on her nose to aide her in usually mind numbing task of reading status reports. _Usually_, because from what she could tell, things were heating up in the wider world -and for once, super villains weren't to blame. Storm's report, clear and concise as it was, outlined the increasing trend in natural disasters that had been occurring during her time spent in Jez's mind to the present moment, as well as the frightening devastating effect of these events. Causalities were mounting and the most recent earthquake had hit Kobe…and had rated 8 on the Richter scale. Thankfully, the city hadn't been totally destroyed, thanks to the defensive measures taken after the 1995 earthquake. It was one of the lucky ones. Storm stated all the signs pointed towards things only getting a _lot_ worse. A team was on a constant alert, ready to leave if a situation occurred in which they could actually make a difference. Even so, they couldn't be everywhere at once. Emma deeply regretted that even with their powers, they were next to useless against nature's fury. So many people were injured or dying and there was nothing she could do to stop it, although she and Warren were discreetly feeding large amounts of aid into charity organisations dealing with the crisis.

The thing that really bothered her about all this was even stranger was the erratic and random nature of the disasters; volcanic eruptions -even happening in supposedly extinct volcanoes-, earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes. These were appearing anywhere and everywhere without any indication of a pattern. Even Storm, usually in tune with the planet's natural pulse, couldn't predict or decipher one. She said that there was a discordant, chaotic sense running through everything. It was as if the earth had suddenly decided to rebel against its long-time oppressors.

And all the magnificent X-men, saviours of the human race, could do was be prepared for when the next one would occur. Emma wondered if something more sinister was at work than 'freak weather'.

Had some new mutant manifested?

Or was in the process of manifesting?

Why hadn't Cerebro alerted them?

Emma suspected the Brotherhood's hand in this; after all, they'd been suspiciously quiet for a long time. But if it _was_ them, surely they'd have made demands by now? Or at least stepped forward to claim the 'glory'.

To make matters worse, she still had to grade those damn psychology papers…Emma grimaced wryly. It was her own fault for setting them in the first place.

"What joy…" She murmured sardonically to herself. In an effort to distract herself, she turned her thoughts over to their new arrival. Since lapsing back into unconsciousness, Jez had neither stirred nor taken Emma back into her dreams/memories, despite her own active efforts otherwise. Emma couldn't decide whether she was relieved or disappointed by this. Scott had remained icily aloof, refusing to stay in the same room or even talk to her. It was an exceptional example of his utter self-centred idiocy (the fact he'd neglected to even _inquire_ about her whereabouts stung deeply). She was surprisingly (or maybe not so) thankful for this, although it did mean that many of the X-men were shooting her dirty looks when they thought she wasn't looking. Or sometimes when they knew she was.

Sighing, Emma slipped off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. With everything that was going on, she was feeling more and more worn out as each day passed.

'I really need to get away for a while…' She mused silently, taking a break from her marking and wandering over to the window. It was a beautiful day. Emma slid the window open and closed her eyes, allowing a breeze to sooth her stuffy head and ease the loose blonde strands away from her face.

Her moment of respite was broken by a loud mental commotion coming from below. Blue eyes flew open and she leant fully out the window to see what was going on. 'Jubilation probably got bored again...' She thought somewhat resignedly, but this was quickly cut short by utter shock as she took in the scene. Logan and X-23 were racing across the football field, a crowd of students watching in complete bemusement. However, this wasn't the cause of her consternation. Fleeing swiftly from them was, unmistakable to her even at this distance, Jezebel.

Emma's stomach lurched strangely. "She's awake..." She murmured aloud, and then frowned. Why hadn't she been informed? And why was Jez_running_ around outside? Surely Logan knew Jez was in no condition for any sort of rigorous exertion yet…Then her eyes widened and she cursed loudly in realisation.

"Damn it!" It would take too long to race down the stairs and outside or to take the lift…And Kurt was out shopping with some students…

Emma stared down at the drop, her white-knuckled fingers gripping the outside of the window frame.

She was _only _on the first floor…

A wicked grin curled the corners of her lips.

Jez's breathing was painfully harsh and shallow, barely enough to keep up with her body's demands. She was no longer thinking clearly, but operating on a primal instinct that told -no, shrieked at- her to flee. In contrast to her silent pursuers, she was making about the same level of noise as a herd of charging elephants, but there was nothing she could do about it. Her feet were scratched and sore from various rocks she'd tripped over and left a faint trail on the bright green grass. Jez's muscles felt as if they'd turned to water, colours seeming to swirl incessantly before her eyes, confusing and bright.

'...run…' She thought with great difficultly as strands of short hair stuck to her forehead, slick with sweat.

Every time she tried to make a jagged change of direction, one or other of her followers would cut her off and force her slightly more off her original path. Although the deadly game of cat-and-mouse (and it did feel as if they were playing with her) seemed to last for hours, it wasn't actually more than a minute or two at most. Unfortunately, Jez didn't have any time to ponder this, as she was quickly and cleanly tackled to the ground. Growling and struggling frantically, she tried to buck off the weight upon her back, but her captor had pinned her expertly and were proving impossible to dislodge. Frantically arching her back, she tried to throw them again, but was met only with hard, compact muscles which refused to budge. A warning (?) growl vibrated in her ear as the body pressed more firmly against her, forcing -demanding- her submission. A choked sob escaped her throat.

" 'She hurt?" A voice behind her gruffly asked. There was no reply from her captor and she swallowed helpless tears of frustration and fear. Why did he give a toss either way? This was it. She was going to be locked away, under surveillance for every minute of every day, in this, this _place_ and kept drugged up to her eyeballs until she died of old age...or killed herself.

This couldn't be happening…she'd been so careful…

Jez heard the soft thud of footsteps and then a pair of leather boots abruptly appeared in her line of vision.

"Why'd ya run?" The voice was a rumble in her ears, while his breath was hot upon her neck. Jez's struggle increased in urgency and she snapped her head back, trying to catch an unwary nose. "Whoa, slow down there. Yer gonna hurt yerself, kid."

Jez refused to listen despite a nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her he was familiar. She didn't know any security guards. Certainly not any American ones, either. The mass shifted slightly as the person on her back leant forward. Then there was an odd sensation of air puffing against her neck.

'They're_sniffing_ me?!? What kind of sick f-!?!'

With an unintelligible snarl she wrenched her shoulders desperately and felt a dull grinding sound, then something screamed in agony. The fight drained from her muscles as they gave up their wire-tight tension and became about as taut as an overcooked noodle. Jez slowly slumped against the hard ground, finally admitting defeat in the face of the terrible pain and the implacable grip of her captor. Her eyes closed as she pressed her face into the cool earth, trying not to cry in helpless frustration. Another strange sensation vibrated through her body from the person pinning her. It sounded like…was that purring…?

'No escape,' she thought bitterly, disgust and fear making her throat thick. 'Caught by a bunch of sick freaks…I never get a damned break. Why can't they just kill me quick _now_.'

Another voice broke into her thoughts, making her eyes shoot open and her heart pound faster.

"Logan! Release her, this instant!" It was an angry, cultured snap, and it was female. No doubt about it. Jez tried to lift her heavy neck, to no avail. If only she could look up… "She is not our prisoner!"

There was a derisive grunt from behind her in response to the woman's comment. "Tell that to her, darlin'."

'What the hell-?'

"Let her go X-23. _Now_."

For a second, Jez thought 'X-23' (what the hell kind of name _was_ that anyway?) wasn't going to obey, as their hold tightened and an almost inaudible growl vibrated through her thin frame again, this time sounding more...angry. Then the hands gripping her slowly relaxed and the weight lifted off her back. Hesitantly, Jez attempted to push herself up using her elbows, but couldn't summon the strength...or ignore the screaming protests from her abused body to do so.

It added insult to injury to only be capable of flopping around like a landed fish in front of these people. There was a rustle of clothing as someone crouched in front of her.

The next few seconds seemed to happen in clichéd slow motion.

Careful hands delicately gripped her sides and gently rolled her over onto a soft lap. Flinching at the contact, Jez's eyes darted upwards as she gingerly raised her head. She froze.

'What the-?!'

She couldn't believe it.

Blue eyes met hers, ensnaring her and drawing her deep into their icy calm depths. The world tilted dangerously and all her breath collapsed from her lungs like she'd just been sucker-punched. Jez felt her heart give several unsteady, irregular thumps and she licked her suddenly dry lips, swallowing nervously. Something stirred in the back of her brain, memories fighting to free themselves from the mass of pain confusion surrounding her thoughts, like bubbles struggling to rise to the surface of a deep pool.

_Blue eyes staring at her in concern_…_a promise made_...

'I...I**know** you...'

That much she was certain of.

The moment stretched as the woman's eyes continued to bore into her, seeming to search for the answer to a question Jez wasn't sure she understood. Then, thankfully, she was released as the entrancing orbs blinked, then flicked to a point behind Jez, narrowing in anger. She began to berate someone and Jez quickly took the opportunity to draw a ragged breath, not having realised that she'd even been holding it. Jez dazedly tried to focus on taking in the rest of her (apparent) saviour. She felt no fear for this woman, only an irritating sense of familiarity.

Long platinum blonde hair, full, kissable red lips, delicately curving lashes, framing amazing crystal blue eyes and a perfectly curved figure. Jez _just_ (it was a really close call though) managed to suppress a blush at how low the blonde's snow white blouse was unbuttoned. Obviously she wasn't **that** injured if she was managing to ogle the first hot blonde who crossed her path...

Jez frowned.

'Wait a minute…' She scrutinised the blonde again.

Blonde hair?

Blue eyes?

White shirt, slacks _and_ boots?

Something clicked into place in her mind, a rusty mental door creaking open in response to the visual cues. 'Did she just call him _Logan_?!' Her eyes widened in confused shock. The world seemed to tilt and blur -as if all the blood was rushing to her head- making her feel incredibly nauseous, as a flood of memories exploded in her brain, driving all air from her lungs.

_-Tears free falling down her cheeks...Shuddering breaths as she fought for control...Sorrow threatening to break her heart in a million pieces...The bitter after-taste of the pills lingering on the back of her tongue- _

_-Darkened bars; the thick scent of sweat, smoke and sex permeating them-_

_-The pain momentarily numbing under the blissful influence of alcohol...the heartfelt concern on her friends faces as she lost herself-_

_-A flash of short blonde hair and teasing blue eyes accompanied by girlish laughter-_

_-Hot, needy, bodies pressed together, hips grinding to the pulsating beat of the dance floor, while burning lips met desperately, trying to erase the pain-_

_-Sadness and a faltering resolve filling her as she watched a crackling bonfire of paper, no, pages, burn before her in a rusty oil drum...then, hesitation and frustration, followed by helpless tenderness...a single page saved from its fate...The picture of a blonde with the most amazing pair of icy blue eyes stared up at her...It was...- _

The images faded from her mind's eye, leaving her scrabbling desperately after them like a shipwrecked sailor groping for a lifeline. Her body began to choke and gasp for air as she hyperventilated.

'No, it _couldn't_ be…but the lab...the school...Logan..._**her**_…' Jez's mind whirled frantically as the woman abruptly stopped her rant and turned, seemingly concerned, towards her.

The same blue eyes burned into Jez.

"Are y-" The woman began, but Jez cut her off. Her mind rebelled desperately. It _couldn't_ be! It just wasn't **possible**.

But she couldn't deny the spark of wild hope suddenly igniting in her chest.

"_Emma…_?" She rasped disbelievingly.

* * *

_Thought I ran into you down on the street,  
Then it turned out to only be a dream,  
I made a point to burn all of the photographs,  
She went away and then I took a different path,  
I remember the face,  
But I can't recall the name, _

_Now I wonder how whatshername has been. _

_Seems that she disappeared without a trace,  
Did she every marry old what's-his-face,  
I made a point to burn all of the photographs,  
She went away and then I took a different path,  
I remember the face,  
But I can't recall the name, _

_Now I wonder how whatshername has been. _

_The regrets are useless,  
In my mind,  
She's in my head,  
I must confess,  
The regrets are useless,  
In my mind,  
She's in my head,  
From so long ago _

_And in the darkest night,  
If my memory serves me right,  
I'll never turn back time, _

_Forgetting you, but not the time. _

_**Whatshername, Green Day **_

* * *

Author's Note:

At last, they've met! Dun dun DUN! (what will happen next?!)

I know I made X-23 is more animalistic...but I was thinking of deprivation and all that 'fun' stuff. It doesn't mean she's stupid (she can talk perfectly well, but doesn't a lot of the time) or anything though, just...different (smiles)

More importantly:

My exams (and school) are finished for the summer! Yes, that means more time for writing (I got some Heroes inspiration hitting me hard at the moment)! Thanks to everyone who has and still is reading and reviewing! Your support is priceless and keep me motivated. Something I'd like to mention is that I WILL finish this story, (even if it kills me) so while the delays -I realise and empathise- must be as irritating as hell, remember that it won't be left unfinished even if something like 6 months goes by again (hopefully won't happen). I'll also mention what's going on in my profile (i.e. slow update), so keep an eye on that if you're curious.

By the way, is anyone else having a bitch of a time with uploading, editing or even reading stuff on fanfiction at the moment?


	14. Chapter 14: I Feel So

**Disclaimers: **

**See Chapter 1. **

**Chapter 14: I Feel So**

Emma tried to hide her rapidly growing concern. Jez's breathing was fast and shallow and her pupils were dilated to their fullest extent, while her whole body shook with a fine trembling.

It looked like she was going into shock.

Emma instinctively attempted to reach out to the girl's mind and calm her down and was thrown for a moment when she was met with complete failure.

Her usual icy reserve (or air of total disinterest) melted away and Emma leant forward, cupping Jez's face and tilting it upwards. "Jezebel…Jez...look at me. What's the matter?"

Jez gave a strangled laugh, eyes blinking rapidly as a multitude different emotions flickered behind them too quickly to analyse. "Wha-_Wher_-How-?!!?" Her words fumbled over each other in their haste. Emma's curiosity was piqued. However Jez had ended up here, it apparently wasn't by design. "Damnit." She finally whispered, closing her hazel eyes in apparent frustration and relaxing slightly into Emma's palm. "I finally lost it…" She muttered as her entire body crumpled as the last bit of resistance left it, causing her to fall backwards. It was plain to Emma that exhaustion and stress had simply overloaded the poor girl's battered senses. Wanting to do something - _anything- _to help, Emma tried to lift the girl up, but Jez struggled to push herself upright, muttering in humiliation, as her face began to flush red; "S'alright. I can-" However, her efforts were almost completely useless as she was only able to lift her body a few millimetres off the ground. A desperately awkward air surrounded her, as it was obvious to Emma that she didn't want to look weak or pathetic.

Self-sufficiency was something Emma could completely understand. But she wasn't going to let pride hurt Jez's body further.

"Here." She quietly murmured, without her usual acidic one-liner, as she slipped an arm underneath Jez's abdomen, supporting and pulling the girl into an upright position. Which just so happened to be resting comfortably against Emma's chest.

Not that she was complaining.

'Mmm...I _bet _you aren't...' Purred part of Emma's mind. She quickly slapped it down.

Jez had made an odd, choking, half-strangled sound, and Emma peered round at her face in concern. Had she accidentally hurt her? A low snort of -what sounded like, to her sensitive ears- amusement reached her. Emma's head snapped up, eyes flashing. How could he find this funny!? Jez was embarrassed enough as it was without his insensitive sense of humour! "Is there something amusing you'd like to share with us, Logan?" Her words were icy and although they didn't manage to alter his smirking countenance, he did raise his hands in submission, shrugging.

"Nothin' darlin'. Nothin' at all." X-23 glanced back and forth between Emma and Logan, nostrils flaring and then focused on Jez. Emma didn't like the look she gave Jez. It was filled with too much predatory interest for her comfort. X-23 unnerved Emma on a level she didn't like to examine too much; it was uncomfortably close to...fear. X-23 was an unknown quantity, her mind was extremely difficult to break into and her motivations even more difficult to fathom. Both things which Emma liked to have a handle on. It made predicting people easy. X-23 was a wild card. "C'mon kid," Here he spoke to X-23, "let's go find the doc. I can smell him over on the quad field. Probably playin' medic to one of the football jocks." Nobody mentioned the fact Emma could contact Henry much quicker herself.

Surprisingly, X-23 didn't leap to follow Logan, the person she treated as a surrogate father/brother figure and the only one who could control her -to a certain degree anyway. Instead, she hovered -almost _anxiously _- for a moment as she watched the weakened girl with an inscrutable expression. Emma felt a surge of protectiveness and -unease?- sweep through her and she narrowed her eyes at X-23. Impassively, X-23 steadily held her gaze for several seconds and then with a last glance at Jez, loped after Logan.

...Now what had **that** been about?

Emma's brow furrowed in thought, before she realised what was happening and instead focused on the girl leaning helplessly against her. Jez's eyes were slitted as she muttered quietly to herself under her breath. Emma couldn't make out much of what she was saying.

Emma sighed. This was not going to be easy. "I know this is probably very confusing, but you don't need to worry." Emma gave a mental snort; comforting people had never been a strong point. Maybe she should look into taking some sort of sensitivity training…? "You're safe here, I promise. Nobody will hurt you." Fortunately, Jez seemed to relax a bit more with every word. "Can you stand?" She asked, privately doubting it. Jez gave a surprised jerk at subject change and blinked furiously.

"Ye-yeah, but I-"

"You need to be resting inside." She said firmly, but not unkindly. "You're still not fully recovered and running about like may have set back a full recovery even further." A part of Emma was amused to hear the threads of protectiveness and concern weaving through her voice. Another was more than a little perturbed.

"Recover...?" Jez sounding even more uncertain and confused, but was still adamantly struggling to stand by herself. Smiling to herself at the determination, Emma gently released her, but still poised to prevent any sudden falls. Privately however, she was slightly concerned; was this apparent memory loss a side-effect of the portal? Or a psychological protection against the trauma Jez had obviously experienced?

Preventing any of her disturbing thoughts from showing on her face, Emma managed an encouraging smile. "Henry can explain everything much better than I can and you really need to be resting." Her tone was neutral, she did not want to be the one who told Jez she had almost died. Seeing the question forming on the girl's face, she forestalled it by beginning to walk back towards the mansion. A half-stifled grunt of pain stopped her. Turning her head, she saw Jez awkwardly stumble forwards, one hand trying to grip a shoulder blade.

'She must have hurt it when she was struggling.'

Without saying a word, Emma extended her hand and lifted underneath Jez's good elbow. Flushing a darker shade of red, Jez hesitantly allowed it to steady her. She didn't protest either when Emma slid a supporting arm underneath her uninjured armpit, although Emma did feel a slight tensing of muscles. Now they were standing side by side, Emma could clearly see Jez was a good couple of inches taller, despite the stooping. It was strange; she was used to being the same height or taller than most people. Scott was shorter than her by an inch or two.

"Thanks..." Jez muttered, eyes darting shyly up to meet Emma's briefly.

Emma smiled, barely restraining herself from brushing the unruly strands of hair out of Jez's face. "You're welcome, darling."

It was oddly gratifying to see Jez's blush intensify.

* * *

The mouths of many students dropped at the sight of Emma entering the mansion with a bedraggled stranger's arm slung around her shoulders. The mental murmur accompanying it was worse. Emma began to feel apprehensive about Jez's ability to cope. It would be incredibly dangerous for everyone -including Jez- if she lost control of her powers now. Now that she thought about it...didn't Jez have pills to shut down her power? The thought led her on to wonder if Jez had actually realised that her 'voices' were in fact proof of telepathy, not schizophrenia...but regardless, this wasn't the time to test it. 

"Get to your classes, _now_." She snapped, levelling an icy glare at the hall in general. There was a disgruntled murmuring and a few sour looks from the students, who were plainly curious about the battered girl. The feeling seemed to be mutual, as Jez was staring around in wide-eyed fascination.

"I don't believe it..." Jez breathed.

"It's a lot to take in, I know." Emma's voice was sympathetic. "But don't worry, Dr. McCoy is going to meet us in the Medlab. It's this way." Jez froze, her body instantly going rigid.

"No…" She swallowed, eyes darting wildly around. "I can't go back there…" Emma was momentarily confused by the refusal, then she recalled Jez's apparent aversion to doctors displayed in the dreams.

"It's perfectly safe, he -Henry- will not harm you. He's a good person, harming anyone is completely against his ethics." Jez's eyes had gone wide and glassy, but Emma's calm words seemed to soothe her, returning an edge of sanity to them.

"Ms. Frost?" A voice asked hesitantly. Emma gave an irritated sigh. Could people not _see_ she was busy?

"I'm otherwise engaged at the moment Robert, can't it wait?" She snapped tersely. "And I believe I did tell you to return to your classes."

She could 'hear' his loud mental gulp and a brief flash of something about Kitty naked and spitting mad. "I-er…um, right…sorry…"

(It's probably not that important anyway…) He quietly rationalised, slinking off to his next lesson.

Emma ignored him (Kitty's embarrassing personal life held no interest to her at the moment) and continued, noticing with some amusement (and annoyance) that almost everyone was, loudly, wondering what she'd been doing with Jez. Some of the suggestions were really quite…inappropriate. She wouldn't have thought they had it in them. Obviously they didn't have enough work to occupy their time.

Emma frowned; she'd have to see what she could to remedy that later.

* * *

Jez was in a semi-coherent state of shock. She'd -almost resignedly- accepted the theory that this was all an extremely convoluted hallucination brought on by her mind simply deteriorating further, but the more she saw of the mansion (and the woman beside her) was casting some doubt on this. There was just no way her imagination was _this_ good. 

Those eyes for example…

'Damn it.' Jez swore, feeling her face heating up again. She'd managed to make an utter idiot of herself already outside (Wolverine and that girl -X-23?- had seen it as well), she didn't need to make things worse. Valiantly, Jez tried to ignore the soft warmth pressing into her side, even though the sensation was doing terrible things to her stomach. It felt like a bunch of damn butterflies were holding a rave in there.

Her efforts to remain calm were destroyed when Emma mentioned 'doctor'. Immediately she felt herself begin to sweat as her body slipped into full panic mode. Cognitive thought evaporated, leaving only the desire to escape. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your perspective), she was prevented from doing so by a strong arm, which had a secure grip around her upper body. As Emma began to speak, Jez was surprised to find an edge of reason returning to her mind, as well as her body calming down. She wasn't sure if it was the soothing tone or the actual words themselves, but whichever it was, Jez was extremely grateful. She was able to watch relatively calmly as Emma snapped at young, brown haired, boy, but ignored the conversation as she suddenly recognised the lift doors appearing at the end of the corridor.

'Shit.' Jez's breathing began to speed up until she was hyperventilating.

Emma stopped and stared down at her. Pale-faced, Jez met her eyes. "I can't..." Jez felt sick and ashamed of herself. Emma was going to think she was so pathetic. This was not the first impression she wanted to make.

Emma hesitated for a moment, watching her face closely and then (miraculously) seemed to soften. "Very well." Jez relaxed again and they started walking –although Jez was moving - in a different direction. Relief and gratitude washed over her.

'Man you are pathetic.' Snorted a voice in disgust.

Jez didn't reply. What could she say? She agreed with it.

* * *

'Darling, really. This is just too pathetic.' Emma told herself as she made her way to her own room. She had completely folded under the weight of Jez's pleading gaze. And really, where else _could_ she take Jez? 

'Anywhere, but your _bed…_'

Emma attempted to ignore them and instead reached out to Henry.

(Henry.)

(Emma? What's going on? Has she woken up? Logan said something about her escaping…?) Henry felt concerned and not a little confused.

(Yes, she has and did.) And that was something Emma would be very interested to know how it happened. (But I can't bring her back to the Medlab. Meet us in my room.)

(Your room…?) Henry sounded bewildered.

(She's terrified of doctors. The Medlab scares her and she seems to feel comfortable with me.)

(I see. I'll be there shortly. Make her comfortable and get her to drink some water, she'll be dehydrated.) Acknowledging his concerns, Emma unlocked the door to her room and ushered Jez inside and then into her bedroom.

"…What…?" Emma left Jez standing in the doorway and briskly crossed the room to pull down the sheets on her bed. Tucking strands of her blonde hair behind an ear, she straightened and then led a rapidly blinking Jez to it.

"Sit." Emma applied a small amount of pressure to Jez's uninjured shoulder and gave an encouraging smile when the girl glanced questioningly up at her. "This is my room." The expression that crossed Jez's face would have been incredibly amusing under other circumstances, as it bore an uncanny resemblance to a deer caught in headlights. "Lay still for a minute, I'll get you some water." Jez blinked again and Emma took it as agreement.

* * *

Jez blinked bemusedly and peered around the bedroom with great interest as Emma left. 

Emma Frost's bedroom. The bedroom of Emma. Which she was in.

How in the blue bloody blazes had she managed to end up here?

'Let us not question the miracle.' Chided a voice warningly. It had a good point. There was a saying about 'gift horses' and 'mouths', wasn't there?

A small smile flickered over Jez's lips and she gingerly leant back on the soft white pillows (damn that felt good) covering the bed. A soothing scent of…was that lilies…? surrounded her. It was oddly familiar. Jez's body ached after all her frantic exertion and she was pretty certain she'd be paying for her over-enthusiasm for a while to come.

"Jezebel?" Her eyes blearily opened again (when exactly had she shut them?), blinking up at the tall blonde looming over her and then focusing on the glass of water held between the delicate and strong fingers. "Here, you have to drink." Forgetting herself, Jez attempted to lift her upper body, and a sharp hiss of pain escaped her. "Careful." And then Emma was suddenly beside her, lifting and supporting Jez's back against her chest and guiding the glass towards her (abruptly very very dry) lips. Jez's eyes drifted inevitably upwards and fastened on the smooth curve of Emma's cheek, the full redness of her lips and the clear blue gaze which met hers unflinchingly.

Flushing, and feeling stupid for doing so, Jez hastily averted her eyes, examining the meticulous attention to detail over every item in the room. Even now, Emma still had the power to make her feel like a dorky prepubescent boy. It was kind of (read: incredibly) frustrating. Why couldn't she be all suave and debonair for just once in her life?

'_Damn_ it.' She thought, thoroughly disgusted. She really did know how to torment herself. Just as Jez had begun her self-flagellation, the door opened.

"Apologies for my lateness." A voice rumbled and a-a-**blue** creature appeared. Jez's breath hitched as her eyes blinked once, slowly. "I was unavoidably detained at the sports field. Some of the boys 'forget' to check their powers while playing...things got a tad messy."

"You-" Jez managed, staring at the blue furry man in fascination. It made Henry blink.

"I am Henry. Dr. Henry McCoy." He offered, somehow smiling without flashing those sharp canines. With a gentlemanly gesture that absurdly reminded her of Gareth, the giant feline extended a paw and gently grasped her hand, shaking it once.

"I..."

-_A large blue ape-like man somersaulted over the head of a villain, kicking out agilely at the unprotected head as he did so. The villain hit the ground with a thud_.-

- _Reading__ glasses hooked securely around his large ears, the gentle giant hung upside down, cross-legged from a gymnast beam, a book on the philosophies of Friedrich Nietzsche held carefully in his hands_-

"…know." It felt as though a door had been left slightly ajar in her mind, allowing everything she'd ever read about the man to trickle out the crack. "Beast, right? You...look different." She was surprised to see him looking so feline, she had a distinct memory of him resembling more of an ape. Maybe her comics didn't always get it right.

"I get that a lot." Beast said dryly, misunderstanding her words and stepping closer to the bed before setting down his equipment bag. Jez observed his confident and careful movements closely and felt a measure of fear slip away. Henry McCoy, that is, Beast, had been one of the gentlest characters she could remember reading about. Jez could feel certain parts of her mind trying to grind into motion, but it was like something was jamming it. Maybe she needed more visual cues. It occurred to her that it was weird to be remembering so much about _comic characters_ (this was so damn bizarre), but almost nothing of the past few months of her life. Guilt hit her hard as Jez realised she hadn't asked about her friends.

"What about my friends? Are they here? Are they okay?" She managed to keep the panic from choking her throat. Beast/Henry looked up from reaching into his bag, a puzzled frown on his face.

"I beg your pardon?" Jez's stomach lurched.

"I'm sure Gareth and Darren are fine." Emma spoke quietly from the corner of the room she'd retreated to, leaning casually against the wall. Jez relaxed somewhat and nervously allowed Beast to place a stethoscope against her chest, the coldness of the metal causing her to flinch in surprise.

"Yes," the blue-furred man agreed absently, sounding distracted as he listened closely to her heartbeat, "I'm certain that wherever they are, they are perfectly fine."

...Wait a minute.

How did Emma know their **_names_**?!

Jez's eyes widened and she stared at the slender blonde.

Oh sh-

How could she have forgotten about the telepathy!?

* * *

Emma kept a close eye on Jez from her vantage point, ready to calm her down or call Henry off if she became too distressed by the procedure. Thankfully, she seemed to be coping well, Emma was guessing from the introspective look on her face that she was trying to remember what had happened. It therefore came as a surprise when Jez's eyes bulged unnaturally and fixed Emma with a look of utter terror. Emma reacted instinctively, taking a step forward and placing a hand on Henry's shoulder to stop him doing whatever it was that was upsetting Jez. 

"How is she?" She asked, intentionally keeping her voice loud so Jez wouldn't feel they were hiding anything from her. Henry sighed, scratching his chin slowly and replaced the portable scanner back into his bag.

"Well, you certainly didn't do yourself any favours by trying to pull a Great Escape on us," he mock-chided and Jez gave a small half-smile and didn't offer any apologies. "but your shoulder only seems to have pulled a muscle, not torn any ligaments as I'd originally feared...so it should be healed up within a week or so, provided you rest _properly_." Henry finished sternly, fixing Jez with a serious look. "I don't think you realise how…**hurt** you were when you first arrived here, young lady. Count yourself extremely fortunate that you didn't manage to undo all the healing your body had just undergone." At this, Jez appeared shaken and nodded once. "To make sure your body can recharge itself properly, I think it would be prudent to administer a tranquiliser to help you sleep, if that is acceptable?" Paling noticeably, Jez glanced over at Emma, seemingly asking for reassurance, which she was only too glad to provide.

"I think that-" The rest of her words were cut off as the door was unceremoniously pounded on.

"Emma! Open the goddamned door!" Shouted an angry voice.

It was Scott.

Emma sighed.

Why wasn't she surprised?

* * *

Jez started as a furious pounding shook the door to Emma's room. It was a welcoming distraction from the increasingly panicky thoughts she'd been having about what else Emma might have 'heard'…and what the hell had happened to her before she'd woken up. 

"Emma?" Dr. McCoy questioned, seeming as puzzled as Jez felt. Why _was_ someone beating on Emma's door? The blonde's eyes slid shut briefly and she let loose a tiny sigh. Apparently whoever it was, wasn't welcome. Jez felt a surge of protectiveness. If she was in better nick right now, she'd bloody go tell whoever the hell it was to piss off.

"It's alright Henry, I'll deal with it. Jez…" Jez looked at the suddenly emotionless expression Emma was wearing and tilted her head slightly in confusion. "You're safe here, **no** **one** is going to hurt you. I won't let them." Jez blinked at the uncomfortably ominous words. Was she in danger or something? But she'd only just _got_ here…

"Alright." She said simply, earning herself a genuine smile in return. In this strange/wonderful new/familiar world, Jez couldn't think of anyone she would rather trust.

* * *

Emma was touched by the acceptance she found reflected in Jez's calm eyes. There weren't many she could think of who would offer such trust. It warmed her. And made her resent the fact Scott was here even more. As the banging and yells increased in frequency and volume (she was mildly surprised Scott hadn't just blown the door open), Emma straightened, pulling her ice-bitch persona around her like a cloak and strode to the door, yanking it open. Scott, caught off-guard by the abrupt opening, overbalanced and stumbled clumsily forward. Emma allowed a brief smirk, quickly schooling her face back to unfriendly frostiness as Scott regained his equilibrium and glared at her. 

"Where is she?" He demanded, the red glass of his protective glasses glinting menacingly. Emma was distinctly unimpressed.

"Who might that be?"

"Damn it Emma." He gritted out between clenched teeth. "Don't play games with me!" She folded her arms casually across her chest and observed him in a clinical fashion. This reaction was too extreme, even for Scott.

"Why the sudden desire to check on her?" She asked calmly, ignoring the twinge she felt as she remembered how he hadn't bothered to visit _her_.

"Because I was **right**." He said, anger mixing with an undeniable smugness.

"About what exactly? The winning lotto numbers? That it was Jubilation who put a whoopee cushion under your conference seat?" Now that she thought about it, that had been just after their fight…was it possible that Jubilation had…? Emma put the thought aside for the moment. "That it is physically impossible for a human to lick their elbow?" Emma finished, sarcasm dripping from her every word. She absolutely did **not** want him disturbing Jez. The fury and hurt she'd witnessed in the girl's mind were too volatile to introduce them just yet. It would be dangerous. For both parties involved.

"She is dangerous Emma. She attacked someone without any provocation, knocked them out and then stole their clothes. At the very least I want an explanation." His lip curled with disgust. It was against Scott's nature to lie so blatantly. Emma mentally winced at the way Jez had made things more difficult for herself, but really, it wasn't the girl's fault. She had been disorientated and frightened and if she had been looked after **properly**, this whole mess wouldn't have happened in the first place. Henry was going to get an earful once she'd gotten rid of Scott. "I warned you this would happen. She is a threat to the security of this mansion and everyone in it. I want her placed in the maximum security holding cell."

Emma's eyes narrowed to glacial slits.

"She knocked someone out, she _didn't_ massacre half the school." She sneered. "Are you even **listening** to yourself?" It was unlikely, as he looked confused at her refusal. Did he really believe she'd support him in this? Emma really did not have the energy for his single-minded pettiness.

"Don't try and ignore this Emma! She is a dangerous unknown; we can't afford to have her compromising everything we've worked for!"

"She needs medical attention, not an interrogation!" She snapped angrily.

"Emma?" A muffled voice called, sounding concerned. Scott stiffened, muscles tensing.

"She's here." Emma wrestled her breathing under control again and glared at him.

"**She** has a name. Jez."

"What is she doing in _here_?!"

"She was hurt and-" Emma made a split second decision not to reveal Jez's fear of doctors. "needed somewhere more comfortable."

"NEEDED SOMEWHERE MORE-!?" Scott seemed to have trouble speaking -or accurately shouting- past his obvious outrage.

Emma wondered if it'd be too much to hope that he'd choke on it; she didn't see how she could avoid this confrontation now.

* * *

"What's happening?" Jez asked Beast, feeling helpless and not a little frantic. She couldn't keep focused on the series of questions he was firing at her, such as; when was she born, where did she live, what year was it, who was president (the blank stare she gave him made Hank look slightly embarrassed), what was the last thing she remembered, how did she get here etc. etc. Whatever was going on outside the room sounded pretty serious. Emma's previous words seemed to make a lot more sense. His muzzle wrinkled and Jez had great difficulty interpreting exactly what the expression meant. It was funny how she'd never realised how important people's face were for figuring out what people were thinking. 

"-ott just wait a minute!" Came another muffled protest from Emma, making Jez bolt upright, ignoring the screech of pain from her shoulder. That was IT.

"Emma?!" She shouted again, louder this time, and tried feebly to fight against Beast's restraining paws which were keeping her reclined against the bed. "Lemme go, I-" Her protests were cut short as the bedroom door burst open.

In the doorway stood a tallish, well-muscled man. He had brown hair cropped boringly short to his head, some sort of weird hippyish sunglasses and a face like -as Gareth would say- a slapped arse. In short, he looked like a wanker. Although, she had to admit grudgingly, an attractive wanker. Probably had the ladies falling at his feet left, right and centre.

"Get up." He ordered her, glaring -she assumed, anyway- daggers from behind his red shades. His obvious dislike of her was easily communicated by those two short words.

Well, it looked like she had him dead-to-rights; he **was** definitely a wanker. This wasn't even his room, who the _hell_ did he think he was ordering her around like his bitch?

"Scott, as Jez's doctor I must insist you leave her in peace. She needs rest, her body has been through several ordeals and added stress will only set back her recovery further…"

Jez ignored Beast as he continued to speak in her defence, the words falling into a background murmur, replaced with a curious roaring sound in her ears. The room faded away.

Sunglasses.

**Red** sunglasses.

Scott.

-_Her own hands trembled with shock and barely leashed anger as she read the repellent comic. Disbelief and horror warred in her heart as foul bile rose in her throat, choking her breath_-

-_White leather and blue jeans entwined as a man and woman lay on a very large bed. The man was poised, hovering above the smiling blonde -Emma-, whispering something in her ear as he kept her pinned beneath him. His red sunglasses, even in this intimate setting, remained on, leaving no doubt as to his identity_-

Summers.

Scott Summers.

With startling clarity, Jez suddenly was convinced of the fact that this was definitely no dream.

It was obviously a nightmare.

* * *

_Sometimes, I wish I was brave  
I wish I was stronger,  
Wish I could feel no pain,  
I wish I was young,  
I wish I was shy,  
I wish I was honest,  
Wish I was you not I, _

'Cause,  
I feel so mad,  
I feel so angry,  
Feel so callused,  
So lost confused, again,  
Feel so cheap,  
So used unfaithful,  
Lets start over  
Lets start over,

Sometimes,  
I wish I was smart,  
I wish I made cures for,  
How people are,  
I wish I had power,  
I wish I could lead,  
I wish I could change the world -for you and me,

'Cause,  
I feel so mad,  
I feel so angry,  
Feel so callused,  
So lost confused, again,  
Feel so cheap,  
So used unfaithful,  
Lets start over  
Lets start over,

'Cause,  
I feel so mad,  
I feel so angry,  
Feel so callused,  
So lost confused, again,  
Feel So cheap,  
So used unfaithful,  
Lets Start over  
Lets Start over,

**_Box Car Racer, I Feel So _**

* * *

Nothing really to say, except I blame the delay of this chapter mostly on South of Nowhere (hell yeah season 3 is out!!!) I spent ages hunting down the previous 2 seasons and then watching them...damn I love that show...But anyway, next chapter is going to be much longer at my reckoning. Props go out to the person who keeps prodding me when I'm dragging my heels (trying not to embarrass you) so thanks again, I appreciate the reminder that people actually _like_ this story. 

Keep reviewing- oh and if you have a spare minute, check out my profile for the new stories (fandoms: Heroes, Kim Harrison's _A Fistful of Charms_, Blade: The Series), don't worry, they're not _that_ long...


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